


Deine Liebe Nimmt Mich zur Heimat

by NellieWolf123



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Bella Swan Is In The Volturi, Bree lives, Childhood Abuse, F/M, James Changes Bella, Vampire Bella Swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-17 16:32:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 36,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13080831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NellieWolf123/pseuds/NellieWolf123
Summary: The love-starved Bella was an easy target for the curious Edward, but she isn't a mere human anymore. She's lived through the pain of the change, the pain of abuse, the pain of being used, and she has come through the other side stronger than ever. With abilities never before seen, Isabella struggles to overcome her past and the loneliness that haunts her every day. Bella/Peter





	1. Chapter 1

"In Which Bella Becomes a Vampire"

Having been clumsy enough to result in a plenteous amount of broken bones and injuries during her short, human lifetime, it was easy for the nerves of Bella's body to inform her of the dire situation she'd found herself in. While she had fallen down many a flight of stairs before, the girl had never flown across the room into a wall of mirrors. Never experienced the absolute intangible feeling of fear that had paralyzed her limbs and increased her heart rate to the timid, little rabbit beats that didn't seem to accomplish anything.

Bella Swan had been willing to die, for her mother, simply because of her empathy. But if she were to think about it, to re-ponder the decision that had led her to this terrible suffering and chains of fate, she might have stayed in the safety of her protectors' presence.

There was pain everywhere, her leg, ribs, and starting to overtake it all, her wrist. A painful heat started spreading up her arm. Trying to fight it with the dogged tenacity known to her character, Bella lost the battle, the urge overtaking her and she began screaming, screaming like death was upon her. Really, it was.

"Bella, Bella!" That was the voice of her angel, Edward, if she was going to die, at least it was to the music of his beautiful voice.

Strong hands were carefully feeling her injuries, the professionalism diverted her attention momentarily from the pain,

"Carlisle?" asked the dying human, in between the ragged cries that had Edward near the point of suicide.

"Yes, Bella?" the doctor's voice was calm as usual, years of protocol helping him keep his habitual level tone.

Whatever she'd been going to say was lost in a wave of pain that didn't stop waving. It took over, an ugly monster, occupying her every thought.

Was this insanity? There was nothing to ponder but death. Nerve endings led to more suffering which led to...

Is someone dying? Who's screaming?

Oh, that's me.

Her old life must have been a dream, of that she was absolutely certain.

"Carlise," the angel said, "Please, can you save her?"

"I'm afraid it's too late Edward," the blond vampire picked Bella up—bridal style—if not for his diamond-hard skin she would've most definitely injured him with the way her muscles were contracting, reaching for any way to stop the attack. Or—in other words—her intense flailing.

Magma was flowing through Bella's veins; her hoarse voice attesting to that fact. Was there ever a time that this wasn't occurring? When the fire didn't lick its way into her skin, everywhere, all the time?

Time passed slowly, or fast, or normally, she couldn't tell. The pain never lessened, continuing to pump through her body like a heartbeat.

Eventually, her awareness began to grow, she heard people moving in and out of the room, there was sometimes voices, musical ones, like bells, that took away her attention for a moment until the fire drew her back. How had she gotten here? Had Carlisle brought her to Forks, or were they somewhere in Phoenix? Unable to stay on one topic for very long, she began humming a song learned at kindergarten, in between the screams. Her sanity breaking bit by bit.

The changing human suddenly realized that the torment was diminishing, at albeit a rather slow pace. Her senses were picking up more and more, noises began to become more intelligible, scents apparent. The dolor slowly crept from her limbs, gradually gathering near her heart. Then, if she had thought it was pain before—she'd been able to stop screaming a couple of hours ago—she used whatever piece of vocal cord she had left in those last few moments of humanhood.

The pain was gone.

It had disappeared.

Vanished.

Finally ceased.

Bella now knew the real definition of relief.

She wiggled her fingers, her toes, scrunched up her nose, knowledge passing through her brain at the speed of light. It was overwhelming how much could happen in one millisecond. The vampire didn't need to ask herself the question of whether she had been changed or not.

Bella opened her eyes and sat up quick, too quick, flipping her legs over the side of the table she had been lying on. She (unnecessarily) blinked rapidly, taking in the spectrum of colours and dust in the air. The girl was in a peach coloured room, with no decorations aside from the table.

Her ears picked up a thousand sounds all at once, but the prominent sounds of nature assured her that Carlisle had taken her back to Forks.

The door crept open, revealing the very man her thoughts had been capturing.

But that couldn't be Carlisle.

Before she'd even made a decision Bella's back had slammed into the wall and her body pulled into a crouching defensive position.

He had been unnaturally attractive before, but now she could see every single feature, it was frightening how much her eyesight affected his looks.

Her instincts were shouting with all their might, "DANGEROUS DANGEROUS ATTACK!"

Carlisle entered slowly, slightly hunched, and hand stretched out in front of him as a signal of peace.

Bella got up slowly, against her instincts.

"I'm sorry Carl—" Her eyes grew wide in astonishment, that was her voice? It was completely different, it was—for lack of a better word—beautiful.

"Bella, I am so sorry, how are you doing?" Golden eyes wide with concern, he slowly stepped over to her.

Bella clutched at her throat for a second before squinting her eyes in determination "I'll be fine for a little while longer, where is everyone?"

The three-hundred-year-old vampire was observing her patiently, hands clasped in front. He winced at the question.

"I thought it best if it was just you and me," Stepped into his space, the eternally-young woman frowned, suspicious and concerned.

"Were they afraid of me?"

"No, no of course not, I am just not sure if you are ready for—"

"Carlisle, what is it that's making you seem like you're about to go to war?" Bella interrupted carefully, wringing her beautiful, ivory-white hands. Slowly putting his hands over hers, the man looked into blood-red eyes.

"Edward, Edward went a bit mad when he realized we were unable to prevent your change." Frowning, the girl cocked her head to the side.

"Why would he go mad? Wouldn't he be happy, we'll finally be together forever."

Carlisle's eyes went wide again, opening and closing his mouth a couple of times before saying, "He thinks, he thinks that because you are a vampire now, you have no soul."

Bella's movements stilled, her face went blank, depressed, back and forth a couple of times before deciding on anger. The newborn grabbed the table—lightning quick—and threw it against the wall with a crash.

Her half-grieved, half-furious face whipped over to Carlisle's impassive one.

"What did he do?" she whispered.

"Edward has never been good with giving up control," he hesitated, "I am of the opinion that he will have trouble seeing you as an equal, in terms of strength."

"You sent him away," she stated, rage again crossing her face.

"Just for a little while, Bella, you are a vampire now, no longer do you need to worry about the constraints of time." He smiled dispassionately.

"You have forever."

Bella grimaced in reply, a line of stress gathering between her brows.

"Can we hunt now?"

"Of course."

Although Bella had always thought she could've comprehended the tumultuous emotions of a vampire, she couldn't have been more wrong. These feelings could never be explained to anyone but of your kind. If she thought of something depressing, a million other sorrowful things, events, anything remotely related to the topic crossed her mind. Emotions rolled over her like waves, memories playing by the slightest of reference. No longer did the health of her body affect her, she wasn't tired, or hungry, only thirsty, but this didn't change the productivity with which her brain worked. Every millisecond belonged to higher-level thinking.

Bella jumped out of the window, flying two stories down to the ground, Carlisle closely following. Amazement jumped to consciousness; the beautiful green of Forks was so much greener. The smells were more vibrant and telling, a million sounds occurring all at once. She couldn't believe that this existed, that this is what the Cullens experienced every day.

The newborn was so excited, she'd experienced so much pain to get to this point; emotionally with James' hunt and her capture, the doubt that flooded her being every time Edward declared his love, and physically through the change of species itself. The light at the end of the tunnel was fast approaching.

Two pairs of impossibly strong feet pounded over the rich forest soil. Bella bounded like a gazelle, observant eyes wide and mouth curved to the side in a grin. Carlisle followed, unable to fully match her speed, observant for an entirely different reason.

Having seen a sufficient amount of newborns, the three-hundred-year-old man knew that the immortal woman's mood could change at any second; Bella's incredible strength could easily support a very large-scale tantrum, or rather, bloodbath.

The vampiress suddenly stopped, nose crinkling, and just as suddenly she sprinted away. The doctor followed closely.

Blood continued to pour out of the five dead elk, their bodies almost completely obscured by the mess. A little newborn was weeping in the midst of it all, curled in on herself, dry sobs barely contained.

She'd been such a fool. Begging Edward to change her, thinking she fully understood the risks. Bella had been determined that once she was changed she'd be a vegetarian like her adopted family.

But this was the taking of life. Something still needed to die in order for her to live. The smell of blood permeated her nostrils, the weight of guilt increased her sobs.

Why in the world had she ever wished for this kind of existence? She stood up, face contorted with rage. Newborn wrath destroyed many a copse in a matter of seconds.

Hunks of wood flew in every direction, the loud snapping echoing against the mountains. Bella stopped, breathing hard—merely habit—hands clenched at her sides.

There was Carlisle, standing out of range, watching the young woman patiently. Looking like the uncomplaining man he always was.

Don't be illogical, she scolded herself, this is your life now, you may as well accept it.

"Don't be a burden" would be a phrase echoed often in the coming months.

o0o0o0o

When Isabella was eight she realized something was different. Other children had mothers who remembered to pick up the kids every day from school. Those children were hugged and kissed and petted. When those children attempted to make a piece of artwork, it was always appreciated, the form guessed at.

Bella just accepted that she would never be able to continue any classes the flighty Renee signed her up for. Food was rarely in the cupboards, so the child studied and learned to make hardtack like the best of them. She made her own lunch, was the only cleaner of the house, and didn't expect anything from anyone.

A few times, Renee had even left for days. Bella was lucky she had brain enough to care for herself, the survivalist section of the school library being well-used, especially when Renee forgot to pay the electrical and water bills (which was often).

Summers with Charlie were to be treasured, he greeted her after a long flight, awkwardly made small talk on the ride home, and that was the extent of their interaction. He didn't pretend to be a good parent, not like Renee. To be fair, Bella's mother had never beaten her, but the young girl had always been more of a forgotten pet than a daughter.

All this was playing through her mind as she and Carlisle walked home, silent just like most of her life. The thing was, Bella didn't know how to interact with people. When the beautiful, talented, smart Edward Cullen had shown her even an ounce of attention the girl had fallen head-over-heels.

Vampires were strong. After Bella had seen Edward's handprint in the side of her truck that had been a given fact. But to get it into her head that she was a vampire, that she had the strength only read about in comics. That was the real hard part. It was frightening, that your body could really do these things, could break through cement with a simple poke of a finger. The first time Bella tried to open a door, it broke. Surprised and mentally overwhelmed, the immortal teenager had began shaking like a leaf. So afraid that she was a dangerous monster, that Carlisle would throw her out if she did anything wrong.

That is when the doctor started noticing things. He'd never been around her much before, not long enough to form a proper judgement of her mental health. Of course, as a newborn she was guaranteed to have some ups and downs, but this wasn't normal.

The young woman worked hard to make herself invisible, quickly learning the strength with which to turn book pages. During the sessions where Carlisle began training her on the different levels of strength needed for different objects, Bella had an overabundant amount of self-blame whenever she failed to accomplish a task right away. Bella never asked questions, tried to make life as easy as possible for everyone but herself, and was surprised when he did the littlest of things for her.

Edward should have noticed that Bella had been neglected. That behavior was considered abuse in the 21st century they were now in. The girl clung to any sort of offered attention, willing to do anything to receive more. She could go from independent young woman to a child in a matter of seconds, depending on the tone with which he spoke.

After three months he confronted her.

"Bella, I'd like to talk to you." The doctor had had to hunt her down, to the spot underneath the stairs she had somehow wedged herself in, along with a copy of Wuthering Heights.

The vampiress quietly followed him to the living room.

"Sit down please."

Looking like a caged rabbit, the girl's mind went wild with possibilities and fears, none which lead to a good outcome. She'd been better at hiding the abuse before, but the change seemed to have amplified any sort of negative feelings she had with authority figures.

"I have noticed a couple of things since you started living here, I hope that I am in the wrong, but I would like to ask for verification from you."

Bella frowned uncertainly.

"Bella, were you," he leaned forward, "were you abused as a child?"

Her eyes became shifty, hands clenching, foot tapping on the floor.

"Of course not, I had food and water—most of the time, and a roof over my head." The doctor looked incredulous.

"What is it that you mean by 'most of the time'?"

"Well—you see, Renee is just forgetful is all, sometime the cupboards were a bit bare…" She trailed off, followed by some unnecessary squirming.

"She forgot to go shopping?"

"Sometimes, sometimes she just wasn't around for a little while, she'd—she'd meet a guy, or go off to Las Vegas with some friends." Her eyes were firmly fixed on the painting above Carlisle's head.

"What was the longest time she was gone for?" His attention was solely devoted to Bella, who squirmed and grimaced at the question. Finally, she gave in.

"Three weeks."

The usually contained man stood up, sat down, stood up again and paced around the room.

"How old were you?" Snarled the most peaceful vampire alive.

"Eight."

The pacing continued, a newborn glanced fearfully up at this reaction. He stopped, kneeling down in front of her, carefully putting his hands on her knees.

"Bella, I'm not going to hurt you, I love you, you don't ever need to worry about us kicking you out, no matter what happens." The girl broke into a sob, throwing her arms around his neck. He hugged her carefully, petting her brown hair.

"Sweetie, have you ever told anyone about this?"

He received a contained wail in reply.

And that was how, Isabella Swan, was really inducted into the Cullen family, and finally started to accept that she was worth something.


	2. In Which Bella Breaks up with Edward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Here is chapter 2! While not as long as the previous one, I thought it was a good point to end at. SQUEE! Guys! 5 reviews, 8 favs, 16 follows! People actually like what I'm writing! People are asking for more?! Well I never knew how motivating that was:) Also, I uploaded a little poem called My Cowboy Soldier, it's about Alice and Jasper, and while not completely accurate, I'm SUPER DUPER PROUD! Please, go give it a looksie! Okay, okay, I'll finally get to the story. To those who reviewed last chapter THANK YOU BUNCHES! If you see any problems with this one, gimme a shout:) Starfish love you all, Nellie out(wooosh!)!
> 
> -Nellie of the Wolf

"In Which Bella Breaks Up With Edward"

After only a few days into vampire-hood Bella could easily tell you the only thing she missed from her human life.

Sleep.

To close your eyes and get away from the burning throat, the agonizing guilt that flooded in after each whiff of blood, every sinful imagining.

It had been glorious.

She recalled many nights as a child, going to bed hungry, lonely, and neglected, but sleep always took care of her.

Dreams were usually warm and mindless. No walking the three miles to and from school each day in rain, sleet, or snow. No constant pretending that her mother cared a lick about her well-being. No empty feeling where the comfort of a parent should be, the warmth and happiness that she could only compare to hot chocolate.

Slumber had always been a peaceful escape.

Now it was gone.

But, admittedly, her situation was much changed from before.

The three months before Carlisle's confrontation had been lived in a state of constant fear. No matter what time of the day, what she was doing, a low voice whispered in the back of her mind—

Unworthy.

Haunting like a twelve-year-old girl's first crush, awkward in her own skin and confidence. The voice never left, her mental state never varying.

Be careful. They'll never love you if you don't.

She had been so scared of losing the favour that previously in her life had swung back and forth like a pendulum. Renee, however, had never been smart enough to follow Newton's first law. She had punished based on how she felt at the time, usually done through—more than usual—ignoring of her "daughter."

The struggle to appear normal against the onslaught of chaotic newborn emotions was terribly difficult. Bella did her best. When she was conscious of a tough subject, her body remained relaxed and strong, face impassive. But there was one feature she didn't count on tripping up her cover—the windows to her soul. The newborn's eyes always showed her true emotions, usually a combination of fear and guilt.

However, the girl was starting to heal. Carlisle gave her compliments, honesty, and therapy; a perfect combination to start the much needed process.

Each day the immortal girl/woman had to spend an hour in the doctor's home office; Carlisle usually managing to get her to stay longer.

That plush chair was her safe haven.

There she spilled every crappy thing (Bella had just come to the conclusion that they had been crappy things, and that she hadn't deserved them) that she had been afflicted with during her human life.

Slow progress was being made in terms of the teenager's mental health. The scars would always be there, but she was slowly coming terms with the fact that she was worth something.

Don't kid yourself. You'll never be good enough, not for this family, and certainly not for Edward.

Bella was squirming in the chair, more than usual; her eyes flicking along the many mahogany bookshelves as she attempted to box in the bully, because it was a lie.

But you don't really believe that, do you?

Carlisle's topaz eyes watching her nervousness with tunnel vision concentration, like usual.

"You're going to be fine, Bella." He smiled sincerely. Carlisle was proud of his young charge, he could see her confidence growing with each coming day. She wasn't completely recovered, her anger and guilt issues testifying to that, but the newborn was no longer at rock bottom.

Today was the day. Six months after James attack, the Cullens were finally coming home. Bella was excited, insecure, and generally all over the place.

The human memories she had of the family had already become blurry. The only things she had to go from were her recollections of what she'd thought about them at the time. Her mind was bouncing through all the things she could remember like an eternally spinning hamster wheel. Rosalie, Esme, Emmett, Jasper, Alice, and—the one she wanted to see the most—Edward.

Bella was finally going to see her soul mate again. (AN:Take that—pew pew—finally spelled it right, blows smoke off of gun and sticks it in her pocket)

Carlisle was still looking at her, the beautiful girl whose head was down, eyes boring mindless holes into the floor. Bella finally looked up, surprised to see that he was still there.

"I'm so sorry Carlisle, were you talking to me?" he smiled.

"No, I was not, how are you—" a car was pulling up to the house. Bella stood up— knocking her chair over in the process—and ran to the door, leaving wind in her wake and an amused doctor.

There was the car, Edward's volvo, pulling into the garage, closely followed by Rosalie's beautiful BMW. Bella watched with trepidation as the family exited.

"Omph," the newborn was almost knocked off her feet as Alice gave a hug-attack. Jasper was closely watching his wife, smiling but wary; the beautiful blond bombshell, Rosalie, awkwardly stood next to the Mercedes; Emmett snaked an arm around her neck and kissed her forehead, dragging her towards the reunion; Esme was next, pulling Bella into a motherly hug that made her sigh.

Finally, Edward stepped out, Bella paused mid smile, a look of shock crossing her face. She felt nothing, an empty void, where the almighty love used to be. Sure, the woman could see that he was beautiful, but she'd been around Carlisle Cullen for six months, and she had realized something.

People had faults.

Even vampires.

When she had been human, Edward had constantly tried to control her, and from the start the only thing Bella had ever seen was his beauty and interest in her. Now, she could barely even remember anything from that point in her life, only seeking desperately after his love. The more she ignored the voice that whispered her faults, the more she saw the truth. This meeting—in the flesh—just assured her of reality. Edward wasn't her mate.

"Bella," the Adonis smiled, reaching his hand out for her.

"Edward," half-smile grimace, "may I talk to you alone?"

His eyebrows pulled together in broody confusion, the girl waved goodbye to her adopted family, giving Alice and Esme kisses on the cheek and promising to catch up later.

The coven watched the two disappear into the woods with raised eyebrows.

Carlisle beckoned for the group to enter, with a whispered "I need to tell you all something."

There the leader explained—in gentle terms—what he had discovered about the newborn. They looked at each other in shock, each resolving to treat the new addition to their circle with great care.

Bella lead the way through the wet, green forest, a new sort of confidence in her step. When the pair was deep enough into the woods to avoid eavesdropping she turned around. But before she could get a word in, Edward cut off her off.

"What's wrong Bella," the bronze haired boy put a hand on her ivory arm, "have you hurt someone?"

She subtly shrugged the caring hand off, looking deep into his warm yellow eyes.

"No! Of course not. Look Edward, I've realized something—" He took one step forward, she one step back.

"We, we're not meant for each other; at least, I don't think so…" his stare was too intense, the newborn averted her gaze and took yet another step away.

If Edward had been human, his face would've been entirely drained of colour. All emotion was gone from his countenance, the previous faint smile entirely absent.

"You can't mean that," he hissed, "has someone been poisoning you against me?"

"No, why would you—"

"We were meant for each other Bella," a final step forward, the girl was now trapped against a tree, "You're my singer, I'm in love with you, Bell-a."

With reverence, the eternal boy stretched out the syllables of her name. Her doe eyes glazed over with terror as Edward stroked the side of her face tenderly, a mean look hardening on his face.

The frightened doe carefully laid her hand on the captor's cheek, sliding it along his stone-hard jaw.

"I'm very sorry Edward, I—I just don't remember much from my human life, other than the pain I experienced." Her hand raised again, smoothing the sullen wrinkle gathering between his brows.

Adonis bored his eyes into the captured deer's.

He doesn't believe me.

"What is this pain you're referring to?" eyes averted, Bella ducked out of the prison of his arms. She scratched the back of her head awkwardly, wishing to be anywhere but the current situation.

"Can we still be friends?"

"I don't know how well I can manage that," he had captured Bella again, this time using the marvelous yellow orbs that led to his soul.

Her voice grew incredibly soft and timid.

"Well you'll have to try." With that the lovely newborn danced away, one last sorrowful look sent his way.

What she didn't see was those yellow orbs going cold, desperate to take back what had previously been entirely their own.

Trees flew in all directions as a terrible tantrum took place. The cracking sound of demolition echoed through the wild, any hearer of this chaos would've assumed two large predators were engaging in battle.

In a way, they were.

The immature Edward had always known attention. The blurry bits he remembered of his childhood had been his parents, spoiling him. They had been at the high-end of middle class, and as the only child, Edward was the star.

He did have a softer side, the one that played piano, read books, and touched his face when a pretty girl gave him attention.

But, he'd had many opportunities to continue to occupy the place of a dependent. Carlisle—from the start—had taken over the position of father in his life. Then came Rosalie, with whom he engaged in multiple typical sibling battles, usually winning. Finally, Esme completed the package, making Edward the definition of immortal child. He took all he could get and more, using his beauty, talent, and a multitude of guilt trips.

And the fact that the Adonis had encountered so few struggles made him exceptionally susceptible to extreme frustration when one did occur.

What had once been a thick, brush heavy area had become destruction, a dent in the wild, not a tree left standing. A smell similar to that of a saw mill filled the air, the dust of the former trees making the air dusty and hazy. In the middle of all this stood the immortal boy, hands wrenching at his hair, anguish spread across his face.

She was mine.

Bella breathed in a sigh of relief when she was back in Esme's arms. The family was all gathered in the living room (AN:hee hee, anyone else get the joke?), even Rosalie's face had smoothed out, no trace of the sullen thoughts she'd usually had toward the new addition.

Smiles were etched on to everyone's countenance. Emmett's hands gestured widely, voice booming as he told a humorous tale.

The newborn laughed, crow's feet and dimples making their appearance. To some it would've seem forced beyond the usual length, but really, joy has to be made to last, you never know when it was going to disappear.

As easily as snapped fingers, they could stop loving me.

Don't make a mistake.


	3. In Which Edward is a Jerk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something I'd like to clear up right off the bat. Edward is NOT evil. He is just misbehaving, the story will NOT end in his death. People are a variety of things, just because people do stupid or evil things does not mean that becomes their identity. Also, this story will include some foreign languages but I won't be including the translation unless Bella knows what it means. So, you can choose to put it in Google Translate or can stay as oblivious as Bella (unless of course you speak the language I'm using). A little bit of Spanish was used in this chapter, and while I'm sure it is understandable, if you see a mistake please tell me. I've only been studying the language for 3 months.
> 
> GUYS! 11 favs 24 follows and 9 reviews! You are AWESOME!
> 
> I'd like to thank the following reviewers:
> 
> Natashar, Tayjj44, suziq968, Goldielover, wildflower 03, and Hairbrushairbrush. And suziq? I'd like to thank you for bringing the whole comment thing during the story to my attention. While I'll still do some occasionally, I will be making sure not to overdo it.
> 
> And that is the author comment! I don't own these awesome characters but I love them!
> 
> -Nellie of the Wolf

"In Which Edward is a Jerk"

Going from being an orphan to having four siblings had been very overwhelming at first.

Now that she was sturdy enough Bella was at the receiving end of many confusing loving gestures; hugs, kisses on cheeks, and loving smiles. The smiles were something Jasper was working on with her. It was somewhat of a hardship for the girl to understand that the love of the Cullen family wasn't a hoax.

Every day, instead of Carlisle's therapy sessions, Bella was sentenced to a game of chess with Jasper. There, the cowboy laboured to get her to understand love in a healthy way… and sweeping the floor with her—he was somewhat of a multitasker.

In fact, every Cullen—aside from Edward—took time out of their days to get to know the real Bella. The love and reverence with which they treated their porcelain doll only grew. She showed herself to be intelligent, thoughtful, and—perhaps most of all—shy. Little things, the kind so often disregarded by those that occupy a position in a loving family, were what meant the most to her. Presents were all well and good, but they generally just triggered an onslaught of guilt. Even Alice admitted the truth (although this may have had something to do with the discussion Jasper had engaged in with her). A simple debate was the best way to form a bond with Bella, reading one of her favorite books, discussing the motivations of the main character. Anything non-tangible really, spending time with the knowledge-hungry vampire teaching her a skill.

The soldier and the doe were currently engaged in an intense chess match. Bella's shield had strengthened during the change; this battle was based purely on skill. The two vampires were ferverously competing, eyes locked on the board with attention usually reserved for the capturing of prey.

"Checkmate," grinned the blonde man.

Staring at the checkered squares, the newborn flicked her eyes back and forth in disbelief. She clenched her hands on the table, breathing out the tension tearing at her throat. Vampire Bella just wanted to take possession—ripping out that smug little heart, but Isabella, the girl receiving warmth and care for the first time, she took control.

Isabella exhaled the monster, smiling small with recognition toward the winner.

Doing so was not effortless. However, with each successful attempt, keeping her temper became slightly easier.

Jasper nodded his head in acknowledgment of her emotional feat, a grin turning up the corners of his mouth.

o0o0o0o

"Bella, can I talk to you?" Rosalie was standing in the doorway of Isabella's bedroom, the blonde beauty actually washing out the furniture.

Usually Rose was well aware that she was more lovely than anything in the nine realms; nonetheless, today the vampiress appeared insecure, a pained look of determination on her face. Rose was the only one of the Cullens—aside from Edward—that Bella had yet to really engage with. The blonde's presence often caused Bella to pop into her shell like a turtle, becoming a small child meeting a strange adult for the first time.

Bella hesitantly patted the side her bed, bookmarking and placing her novel on the nightstand. Rose took her place, turning her head to meet red eyes head on.

"I would just like to apologize for how I treated you, when you were human." The blonde awkwardly brought her legs up to meet chest.

"Oh, Rosalie, that's fine," the brunette smiled tentatively, " I don't really remember that much anyways."

"No it wasn't. I never should have judged you so quickly. You really are a dear, and I was rather awful."

"What my dear sister means to confess, was that she was acting like a spoiled trollop," Rosalie stood up in a flash, scowling at the handsome devil leaning on the doorframe. Edward's bronze hair, high cheekbones, and flawless smile looked striking as always; however, the vindictive waves of malignancy immediately brought attraction to a screeching halt. He was grinning at Isabella, as if somehow thinking that insulting her sister would earn brownie points.

The brunette's face grew cloudy, watching the conflict with growing turmoil.

"You always were a resentful beast weren't you," snapped the blonde, stomping over to get in her brother's space.

Edward grinned malevolently, one eye on Isabella's reaction. She was curled up into a ball, watching the scene with a dejected air. But in his rather twisted mind, any attention was good attention, as she looked to be all ears (albeit suffering ones).

"You just don't want the precious Bella to know what a selfish ogre you really are." Rosalie raised her hand, ready to smite the immortal boy out of existence.

"Oh sure Rosalie, just hit me, I'm sure Carlisle would really enjoy that story."

"You are a hundred-years-old yet you're still hiding behind your father, what does that make you, coward!"

While Edward was only a few inches taller than Rose, his presence seemed to grow; the demon towered over her, his form obscured by a black miasma of vengeful immaturity. This child had never been told no and he was very dangerous; because, once he had approached physical maturity, that selfishness was accompanied by a collection of dangerous strengths and talents; the ability to heed any protests against his own wants.

"Please stop," asked the timorous voice of the corner. That was all it took for the demon to shrink back into a boy, looking apologetic, not because of what he'd done, but due to the fact that he'd been caught. Adonis sneered at his sister and sauntered away. Said sister took a deep breath, calming herself down before turning around.

Isabella was rocking in a little ball, the conflict having scared her greatly. You never knew what people would do when they were mad.

Stay invisible, don't let anyone see you, hide, hide.

Rosalie slowly approached the scared kitten, wrapping it in her arms and kissing its cheek.

"I'm fine," it meowed.

"No, you are not, I am sorry, I did not realize how much that would affect you," Rose's face grew pinched, "I will do my best not to let that happen again, promise."

There they embraced for an uncertain amount of time, strengthening their bond as Edward destroyed his with a sledgehammer, blowtorch, and a couple of hand grenades.

o0o0o0o

After a vampire's change, the most major outward transformation was looks. Even the most beautiful of humans are aware that they have physical flaws; however, it isn't that way for vampires. Everything became smoothed out and symmetric. Colours deepened and intensified, and voices became lilting and musical. It was a marvel that these undead creatures didn't spend the majority of their eternities staring at themselves in mirrors.

While the newborn had been beautiful as a human, she'd never been told so. Alice took it up as a mission to make Isabella aware and proud of the way she looked. Self-esteem had been very unimportant in Isabella's life, but her sister was determined to fix that soon.

Isabella had never had new clothes. Everything she'd ever owned had previously been Renee's, and usually only the worst of the worst was given to her daughter. The selfish woman must have used up all her love towards the sentimental attachments she had to everything that she owned, because Isabella certainly never received any of either.

When the Cullens were finally re-invited to their home, Alice quickly noticed the state of Bella's clothing, and was adamant to remedy it. So, after the newborn had finished confronting the childish and controlling Edward, she was dragged to the closet by a rebel fairy.

As soon as she'd entered the house, her arm was delicately seized by the beaming Alice. The family watched as the pair danced up the stairs, Isabella quickly acquiescing when she realized who her captor was.

The fairy's closet was gargantuan. Hangers upon hangers hung on both sides, colour-coded clothing and shoes lined up in perfect rows.

"So," grinned the pixie, "What do you like?"

The newborn's eyes nearly bugged out of her head, staring at Alice incredulously.

"Alice, what are talking about?" she said apprehensively.

"Sweetie," an arm wrapped around Isabella's shoulders, "Have you ever had your own clothes?" The long-haired brunette slowly shook her head, avoiding eye contact.

"You don't have to worry about money anymore, I can see the future of every stock market. Now, what do you like?"

Isabella paused, gazing around cautiously, before, almost silently breathing out the word.

"Yellow, I like yellow."

The psychic grinned, almost floating with joy, grabbing a tape measure, and getting to work, you wouldn't have believed her feet ever touched the ground.

o0o0o0o

Esme was the best woman in the whole wide world, Isabella decided. For one thing, she gave hugs, and hugs were awesome. Hugs helped everything. To have something other than your own strength of mind do the soothing was incredibly comforting.

Sitting down on one of the living room's many plush couches, Esme would open her arms wide. In those very arms the newborn received her—first ever—cuddles. With one of the mother's hands soothing Isabella's back, enveloped in love, the girl reached the level of safety previously only achieved through sleep.

The mother also asked questions, about Bella! "What are you reading? What do you think about it? Do you want to do that? Are you just being nice?" She cared, and it was wonderful.

Isabella was one of those people that must've been a ninja in a past life. She crept on her tiptoes all the time, never making a sound. Frankly, it was astonishingly how well she did this, considering the extent of a vampire's senses. The newborn almost seemed invisible at times. Esme would be bustling around in the kitchen, making cookies for charity, turn around—

BAM!

There she was, sitting at the island, swinging her feet happily as she watched her mother's productivity.

In addition, Isabella had what almost seemed like a superpower for finding nooks and crannies. She wedged herself on top of bookcases, inside them, under tables, beds, etc. Anywhere you could fit her 5'2 frame of skin and bones (while the transformation had filled her out a bit, she still was unhealthily underweight on the human scale) was a new place for her to hide with a good Jane Austen novel.

The vampiress devoured books with a passion—on pretty much any subject—she just couldn't do so in a normal sitting position.

One day, the doe was encased in when of her favorite cabinets, a coat closet no one used, along with a copy of East of Eden (one of my favs, seriously guys you need to check it out!). There she sat happily, immersed in the well-described world of Salinas Valley, California.

"Por qué tú me preguntas por eso? Tengo una esposa y una familia," Jasper sounded more stressed than she'd ever heard before.

What's going on?

The newborn shut the novel and cautiously pressed her ear to the wall.

"Pero, perdí a mío!" cried the voice at the end of the line, the phone connection was good enough, the man sounded at the end of his tether.

"Lo sé mi amigo, I'll be there in a couple of days," With that, the call was ended.

Isabella frowned, opening her book again, biting her knuckles.

The door to the coat closet opened, light shining through into the dark space.

"Did you hear that?" the cowboy looked burdened and grieved.

"Yes, but I didn't understand, why are you leaving?" Jasper stood her up, enveloping the newborn in his arms.

"An old friend needs me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -For those of you who noticed that Bella has changed to Isabella, it was done for a reason, to be explained later.
> 
> -Also, your comments are SUPER motivating (hint hint wink wink) so if you want to help keep me on track (more furious winking) tell me what ya think:)
> 
> This chapter shall end in squees.
> 
> SQUEEEEE, SQU-WEEE!


	4. In Which Isabella and Emmett go Grocery Shopping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is chapter four! I've decided that I need to take more time between each chapter. The reason being: I need to chill out and spend more time ensuring their quality. This story is becoming my baby, and the amount of time I've devoted to it will continue to increase. No worries, I definitely will be posting a chapter each week, unless a lightning bolt strikes in the dark of night.
> 
> Guys! 25 favs, 45 follows, and 13 reviews! You people are absolutely the best! Okay super cool humans, if you see something up with the grammar or story in general, please give me a shout! Also, reviews are super duper motivating and it makes my attachment to this little infant grow! SQUEEEEEEEE!
> 
> -Nellie of the Wolf (wooshes into nothingness)

"In Which Isabella and Emmett Go Grocery Shopping"

Considering how many gifted vampires the Cullen coven had, it was surprising how long it took for them to realize that Isabella had a talent. Perhaps they'd thought the lack of Edward's access to her brain to be everything her power; however, that was not the case.

Isabella had the ability to turn unnoticed to every sense available.

She never used it maliciously; however, sometimes a word or turn of phrase would hit a nerve and she'd disappear; it becoming hard to even remember her existence.

Jasper, as the empath, was the most tuned into these happenings. He was usually the one that sensed her disappearance and was able to find the small, sensitive vampire. Edward could also realize when the invisibility occurred, but was also well aware that Bella did not desire his presence—from which he took great offense; he thought his siblings must be turning the newborn against him.

In fact, the bronze-haired Adonis had gone rather insane in the past months. Whenever Isabella was near he'd 1. Stare with a fixed expression of focused insanity, attempting to seduce her with his attention or 2. Engage in a fight of heightened heights with any sibling in range.

Said siblings were quickly becoming fed up with his attitude, Jasper sometimes resorting to drugging Edward with lethargy just to shut him up.

In regards to Isabella' talent, the others simply had to fight their instincts. Something about Isabella's ability made it hard to even want to find her. For her more transparent moments, "little Andromeda" became a popular nickname. Neither scent, sight, or sense gave her away when she didn't want to be found.

Which, being the solitary creature she was, happened often.

You simply had to learn her haunts and hope that the newborn snapped out of her book long enough to notice your presence. Time wasn't really a matter of concern to vampires, provoking Emmett to stand for hours at a time in an empty closet (that really was empty) waiting for Isabella to appear. Rosalie found this incredibly amusing.

o0o0o0o

Isabella plopped herself in the passenger seat, smilingly throwing her arms out to the sides whilst Emmett buckled her in. It didn't matter that she was perfectly capable, or that no car crash would ever be able to take her life, it was one of those things her brother always did.

The outfit the girl wore was particularly sunshiny; entirely made up of yellow, she looked like a flower. Everything she wore was a shade of the colour. Alice had quickly realized that as long as Isabella's clothes were yellow, she would wear anything. In short, she was the most easy when it came to be turned into a dress up doll; not including the newborn actually thought it was fun.

Beaming at each other, the jeep took off—hands stuck out of the windows—waving goodbye whilst Carlisle and Esme watched with joy. The bond that the two shared always evoked an earth-shattering love in the "parents."

When Emmett had been human, he'd had a little sister named Beth whom he'd doted on immensely. During his period as a newborn, the separation had been intensely felt, even provoking him to attempt suicide more than once. Now that Isabella was part of the family, it was almost like having her back again. He was always doing—completely unnecessary—things to ensure her safety, but the newborn always went along with it, because that was just one of the ways the bear of a man showed his love.

Isabella sighed heavily, tugging at the hem of her dress. Although the weekly excursion to Port Angeles with Emmett was fun, it unfailingly sucked the life right out of her. The pair would do something "human"—going to the movies, shopping for random household trinkets, browsing the thrift stores for treasures. Being surrounded by the delicious beings was never an easy task. So far, the newborn had yet to kill anyone, but every time she was surrounded the mouthwatering blood sacs it felt like a probability.

Referring to humans as mouthwatering blood sacs probably wasn't helping her control or her empathy.

The newborn huffed, of course she felt that way, all her birth family had been human—and they'd been tyrants of the abusing sort. Guilt flooded her as she became fully aware of the apathy with which she regarded human being.

Bipolar and moody was a habitual state for the newborn, to be fought against in every moment, especially when she was required to be social.

She shifted uncomfortably, there was another reason the vampiress was anxious to go to test her control. Even though Isabella was constantly assured of her place within the Cullen family, a doubt lingered in the back of her mind

You don't belong, so why are you even trying?

The vampire was absolutely terrified of severing the gossamer string of trust that connected her with love. Up to this point whenever something good had happened in her life, it had almost always been followed by something of a much worse nature. Like a drug addict finally getting her fix, love was something it would be terribly hard (and altogether miserable) to go cold turkey on. A shiver of fear slid down her spine as Isabella considered the possibility.

A muscled hand squeezed her shoulder, jostling her out of dark thoughts.

Warm yellow eyes were looking at her with concern.

"Are you alright, Bells?" She bit her lip, shaking her head furiously, brown hair going astray.

"No, but I'll be fine soon, I can do this."

"Dang straight you can Bells, you're the strongest newborn I've ever seen!"

"Emmett?"

"Yea?" a dimple appeared on his cheek.

"I'm the only newborn you've ever seen."

And with that, laughter filled the car, Emmett's booming and Isabella's one of breathless surprise.

Emmett's jeep pulled into a parking space near the Safeway entrance, grinning at the surprise on Isabella's face.

"Today, we're going to go food shopping," and with a dramatic fist pump, the boy-man exited the vehicle.

An eyebrow raised, "What are we gonna do with it when we're done?"

The older vampire stopped, frowning in concentration. When Emmett had been human, he'd been rather impulsive, that trait had only intensified after the change, so even if he was a vampire with a multi-tasking brain of immense proportions, he didn't always think things through.

"We'll donate it to the food bank!"

"If that's the case we need to only get non-perishable foods items, okay?"

"Whatever that means, Bells." And with an arm slung over his sister's shoulder, the two alluring vampires strolled toward the entrance.

"What's marshmallow fluff?" Emmett was holding a jar of said food, looking extremely offended.

Isabella took the jar out of his hands, placing it back on the shelf.

"A whole bunch of chemicals made beautiful with the addition of a lot of sugar."

"That's your answer to every food I ask about," the dimple made it's appearance.

"This is the United States of America." With that statement, all poking of fun was ended.

Isabella had a way of coming alive and confident in certain situations. Grocery and book shopping were just two of them. She lifted her chin, swung her hips, ignoring the presence of all living creatures until she arrived at the checkout.

The newborn was devastatingly attractive—like all vampires—and self-assurance only made her more so, attracting numerous lustful-eyed observers.

Her brother just followed her around with amusement, reading all the labels of items tossed into the basket and giving the death glare to any men who attempted to approach.

"What's with all the canned meat?" Isabella smiled shyly at the question, scuffing one of her feet on the floor.

"It's the food they tend to run out of the fastest."

"Oof," Emmett engulfed his Bells in a ferocious bear hug, whispering, "You're the best," in her ear.

The newborn relaxed in his embrace, before suddenly stiffening into a board. Her brother released her slowly, following her line of sight.

A highly makeuped woman was obliviously pushing her cart down the middle of the aisle, chatting on the phone with a friend and smacking her gum obnoxiously.

"No look Sarene, you gotta do what's best for yaself, get the father to do the rearin', trust mae, you donna need that kinda responsibiliae in ya life." The gum chewer rolled her eyes at the astonished onlookers, flipping them the bird before continuing down the aisle.

A low growl stuck in Isabella's throat, a wrathful hate gathering in her stomach. Emmett quickly put his arms around waist again.

"Hey, hey it's fine Bells," the little body started struggling, "Think about Esme and Carlisle, they love you, Renee can never hurt you again."

The newborn managed to gain control of herself again, terrified anger still in her eyes. She blurted her thoughts.

"She should be killed."

Without a response Emmett dragged the fuming Isabella through the store, carefully avoiding the gum-chewer. His mind was set on getting his sister to their warm happy home for recovery; in contrast, Isabella's brain was turning over millions of murder plans, for just one woman—Renee Dwyer.

Isabella was smart enough to realize that killing your mother was an action that needed to be greatly pondered over. If she did this it could very well haunt her for the rest of eternity. Would it soothe the pain, or, would it just be rubbing salt into the wound?

And in between all this careful planning were internal mental conflicts of epic proportions. What gave Isabella the right to exact punishment? The girl was intelligent, a trait amplified after the change, only hindered by the abuse she'd suffered. She knew that she was sensitive, too sensitive, and could easily go comatose if the guilt struck her too hard.

Another factor, was she even mature enough to make such a decision in her current mental state? The newborn had been going through intense therapy for nine months, and while she felt like her progress was immense, she was without her brother and counselor—Jasper.

Agh, it was so frustrating to be emotionally reliant on another being! Bees buzzed and hummed in her brain, a turmoil that only stopped when Isabella came to a verdict. She was going to have to trust another of her siblings, and she picked the most obvious choice—Rosalie.

o0o0o0o0o

It took quite a few days before Isabella was able to get Rose alone in a completely safe-from-eavesdropping environment. The Cullen "children" no longer attended school, having been pulled out after the "tragic accident" that had resulted in Bella Swan's "death." As a result they were always home.

The vampiress waited and waited for an opportunity, before finally deciding to just invite Rosalie for a hunt. The blond followed hesitantly, an eyebrow-raising family watching them disappear into the lush, green forest.

"Do you believe it is okay to go beyond the state in exacting punishment?" The two vampires had finished their hunt, and sated, were seated in a tree with particularly welcoming strong branches; Isabella had named it Boom.

The blond goddess shifted uncomfortably, giving Isabella a searching glance.

"Are you referring to when I murdered my fiancé and his friends?" her sister's shocked expression was proof enough.

"Why, why did you do it?" The brunette leaned forward, focusing with an obsessiveness spreading through her body, hands twitching, pupils growing.

"He—along with his friends—gang raped me. They left me so beaten that I would not have survived had Carlisle not found and changed me." The blond held her sister's gaze, seeming to stare into the depths of her bloodthirsty and vengeful white light of her soul.

Isabella opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, before finally voicing the question.

"When you killed them. Did it make you feel better?"

Rosalie flickered her eyes across Isabella's face, carefully mulling over an answer.

"No, it did not help me feel any closure for what they did. However, it gave me peace of mind; they will never be able to hurt anyone else. That is really why I did it, you know."

Isabella frowned, her brain whipping through thoughts like a slot machine. The blond laid a loving arm around the newborn's shoulder, pulling them hip to hip.

"Sweetie, what is the question you actually want to ask me?"

The words spilled out with no hesitation, a sentence seldom uttered outside of a murder mystery novel.

"I want you to help me kill my birth mother."


	5. In Which Edward Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! This chapter has to be one of my favorites! I've edited and re-editing it so many times. Honestly, I love it when people get angry, when people get emotional. Those are the scenes I love the most, the creepy wrath scenes. Does that say something about me?
> 
> I'm actually thinking about changing the pairing. So don't get your heart set on Peter and Bella, I'm carefully debating the pros and cons of each relationship.
> 
> Anyway, I was kinda discouraged this week, mostly 'cause I got my first flame and tried writing this chapter without a plan. YOU NEED A PLAN! From now on I shall be "The Wo-man with the Chapter Plan!" It is super important. Also I feel the need to inform you guys of something. THIS IS NOT CANON! Dude! Fanfiction, I change the story and characters as I see fit. Of course Renee wasn't abusive in the original books, I know that! This isn't gonna be written the way the books were. I know that! I don't write like Stephanie Meyer. I know that!
> 
> Phew, really needed to rant there, sorry everybody.
> 
> Alright, so if you awesome humans see anything hinky with the chapter, gimme a yell:) As always, reviews are SUPER DUPER motivating! Hint hint wink wink!
> 
> -Nellie of the Wolf thinks you're awesome
> 
> -She also (sadly) doesn't own Twilight

"In Which Edward Dies"

Orange eyes stared in shock, repeatedly reading the same headline.

Renee Dwyer Missing

Renee was supposed to have died by her hands—who had done this? Who had stolen the revenge so truly her own? Isabella knew Renee well enough to know there really had to be some sort of violence involved. The "mother's" newest boyfriend was pants-dropping-rich, and Renee was one of the best moochers out there.

Ugh, something had to have happened to her. That woman had given one of the worst childhoods she could've asked for. It wouldn't be a surprise if she'd ticked off the wrong person. Renee inspired such behavior by her careless and disrespectful actions. Anger boiled beneath the newborn's skin, if she caught who had done this...

Isabella's face had drained of all expression as she lost herself in thoughts of Antarctican revenge, her eyes blank and mind alive. Rosalie and Alice had stopped their conversation, gazing at her curiously.

"Renee is missing," she said, with a tight face of more than a little discontent.

Shaking in her head in disbelief, Rosalie quickly assertained Isabella's thoughts. Renee was either dead, or she was kidnapped, both of which meant their plan was unachievable. The blonde goddess studied Isabella with concern. Tomorrow was to be the day, the day of Isabella's retribution, how could this happen? The two had meticulously planned every detail of a flawless murder. Hours upon hours of agonizing rehashing, leaving no escape for the victim, whatever the situation.

Alice had been informed, simply because she'd already known. The pixie didn't concur with Isabella's decision; however, she wasn't about to stand in the way of something that would give her sister the closure so desperately desired.

It was thought that the other Cullens were completely unaware. The women of the family were relatively good at hiding things, and Rosalie and Alice had taken great pains to keep their minds busy whenever in Edward's range. Jasper would have suspected something (and figured it out in seconds) if he had been there. He knew Isabella, his wife, and Rosalie well enough to analyze their emotions to a tee. But he wasn't, and that was perhaps part of the reason why Isabella had chosen to do it in the first place.

The newborn tore the newspaper apart, getting to her feet and pacing like a wild animal. Snarling and growling she tore at her hair, dark shadows of foreboding clouding her eyes. Like a bad quality camera she grew in and out of focus; her sisters having to squint and concentrate in order not to simply forget Isabella's existence.

Ominious steps could be heard from the hallway, signaling another's approach. Edward chose this moment to enter the room, looking particularly like the cat that ate the canary, smug and bouncy with each step.

He stopped dead, his expression draining from his face as the Adonis noticed Isabella's state.

Their eyes met, an electricity being exchanged between the two. Forebodingly the air became heavy and thick—like between the heaves of a storm. Alice and Rosalie gave the copper-haired boy threatening looks before exiting silently.

A hand was held out in peace toward the mad creature, her tangled hair, crouching frame and dark eyes professing her as such.

"Bella, what's wrong?"

Edward found his back against the wall, the remains of Isabella's newborn strength being sufficient to overpower him.

"How many times do I have to tell you? It's Isabella now, I'll never be your Bella again!" her wrath hooked and anchored Edward, he found himself unable to move for fear of retribution.

How the tables have turned.

An ivory hand stroked his high cheekbone, anger and longing evident in her face. The new vampire was at the end of her tether, acting upon any number of emotions at the drop of a hat.

"How did you figure it out"

"Figure out what, Be-Isabella?"

"You found out that I wanted to kill Renee," she breathed, "So you decided to take away my choice, just like you've always done. Because free will doesn't matter, not mine, not anyone's but yours."

The boiling rage previously seen was slowly diminishing, leaving a simmering strength that inspired a much greater height of fear.

"Isabella, you have to understand, I thought I was doing you a favour-" the lioness interrupted him with furious shaking.

"You always were an idiot." She gave him a smileless smile, hands clenched hard over his shoulders as she suddenly switched over to fury.

"IT WAS MY CHOICE!" her hand was around Edward's throat, his yellow eyes bulging, feet lifted off the ground. Skin began cracking, the ominious pain jarring his body.

You are going to die. Now give up, like the coward you always were.

A half-sob tried to break through as he felt his sanity leaving. Resigning himself to this fate; Edward closed his eyes and relaxed his body. Whispering his final goodbye and hoping for mercy in his future.

Rosalie and Alice had been intently listening outside the door, hoping to keep Isabella from doing something she'd regret. Alice's eyes grew wide, seeing a vision that Rosalie easily understood the meaning of. Bursting through the door, the vampires took in a terrible sight.

Isabella was on her knees, rocking, hands protecting her head. Edward was gone.

Now you really are a murderer.

Shakily, the newborn stood up, turning to meet her sisters' eyes. The two gasped at the lifeless look in her eyes, the sorrowful slump of shoulders, the abused hair that tried to cover her expression.

"Isabella," said Rosalie, cautiously stepped forward, hands up in surrender, "Where's Edward?"

Giving a broken laugh, the creature stepped forward.

"I killed him; I didn't mean to, but he's dead now...d-dead now."

"Sweetie, of course you didn't, we know that." A failed smile adorned Alice's face; the attempt doomed to a miserable result.

"I don't know why… why did he do it? He made me kill him. Now I have to go away."

"Isabella, you know that's not true. You're still a part of this family, no matter what you've done."

"But he was Carlisle's first, that means something, that means a lot. I'm sorry—I think—I know you love me, but I need to go away now, I need to go away NOW!"

"Honey," Alice approached slowly, gathering her little sister in a hug, "Before you do that, we need to call a family meeting, then we'll give you some money and you can go wherever you want to." Isabella pulled back, meeting Alice's eyes, scanning with suspicion.

"I killed your brother, I killed him dead. Why would you help me go away?"

"Look Isabella, you're still a newborn, you aren't fully in control of your actions. And he provoked you—extremely—he should've seen the consequences."

o0o0o0o0o

Topaz orbs dilated in fear, for the earth was quiet. Rosalie, Alice, and Be-Isabella were gathered in conversation, yet their minds were still. Like a silent movie everything was a shade of grey, all colour and sound had bled out of the picture.

Shaking in trepidation, Edward walked up to them, screaming with all his might. Rosalie and Alice continued calming Isabella, not seeing the teenage ghost demanding their attention. It was like the sound knob was turned completely to the off position; lips moved, Edward focusing to understand the meaning, but it was so slow. Even slower than the way a human saw things. Distraught, he turned away.

It was hard to differentiate between the emotions coursing through his veins; fear, anger, and sorrow. They all rolled over Edward like a tidal wave without pause. His life was over and what had he done with it? Over a century had gone by—he finally accepted the truth—the life he'd led had been a waste. Taking everything offered from all the people around, yet never giving a cent back.

My own girlfriend killed me.

The ghost gave a hysterical bark, moving to punch the wall. There was no sound, no crash, no flying of plaster. His hand had just disappeared. Carefully pulling back, the specter observed the lack of damage, scrunching up his face in shock.

I'm dead. I'm really dead. And it's all my own fault.

Ignoring the conversation between his sisters and Isabella, the phantom began pacing.

Only twenty four hours ago he'd called Renee from the outskirts of Phoenix,

"Meet me in the parking lot of Rainskirts National Park, alone, or I'll publish evidence of Isabella Swan's abuse."

So blinded, yet so sure that Isabella would take him back for such a deed.

Edward hadn't been gentle either; leading the abhorrent woman with the threat of death deep into the forest.

No one had noticed them.

Deep-red blood had soaked the moss-covered ground, spraying up into the trees, perfectly complemented with the screams for mercy. It reminded him of the carefree time of his youth, when he was young vampire. And just like all the people Edward had killed in the 20's, Renee Dwyer had deserved it.

Ninety years ago the immortal boy had stopped feeding off of people, simply because he'd been lonely. Respect towards human life had never been something Edward had prized.

Follow the rules and Carlisle will have to let you stay. You're important to him, You were his first.

The world spun around Edward, he observed his family. They were pleading, desperately trying to keep Isabella from leaving. As a vampire, you had to get used to everything changing but yourself. The Cullen family had always tried despairingly to keep their little family fixed and unvarying.

They don't blame Be-Isabella for killing me.

His own family couldn't care less about his death. Sure, Esme and Carlisle looked slightly grieved, but not the way they should've been.

I want people to remember me as something other than an a*hole.

That thought came as a surprise. When Edward had been alive, he'd tried his best to avoid the concept of death, believing that all vampires were condemned to hell on principle. He'd been determined to live life to the fullest. But was being selfish all the time really the most life could offer? What about real relationships? Where people offered information by their own free will, and listened to you rant about your problems.

I want that.

Then came the crumbling sorrow, because that was unattainable.

Edward Anthony Masen was doomed to haunt the world for eternity.


	6. In Which a Pervert Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Full note at the bottom.
> 
> I unfortunately do not own these characters:(
> 
> -(random jazz hands) Nellie of the Wolf

"In Which a Pervert Dies"

Isabella focused on the humming sound of the engines, watching as the plane passed the clouds with ease.

Why Italy? She wondered—not for the first time. The vampiress had been surprised when the Cullens had not only given her cash, but—specifically Alice—placed plane tickets in her hands.

The seatbelt sign was off, so Isabella was curled up, legs against her chest, arms circled around in protection. Guilt had hit her more than once on the journey; it was helpful at some moments, taking her mind off of the enclosed space with dozens of mouthwatering blood bags; other times it was just a freight train desperate to drag her down into an eternity of self-loathing.

Isabella hadn't really wanted to leave. The Cullens were her first family, the first people to show her love. But, she needed some time away, to recover on her own, to finally learn to be a mature adult again.

She sighed, pulled the window cover down, stuffing her neck pillow against the wall and closing her eyes, pretending to be asleep. The over-attentive plane attendant grated on her very last nerve. Already strung out with grief and self-control, she didn't need any more emotional conflicts.

Mentally scrunching up her face and hands, the vampire braced herself.

Isabella was determined to get herself to independence from mental help. To finally control her emotions instead of letting them always being the puller of the strings. But, she was a newborn, and now without a mentor. A pang of fear hit her stomach.

What if I can't do it on my own?

Rising up at the first hint of fear, the low voice menacingly resonated in her mind, a deep chuckle just behind the words.

Murderer.

o0o0o0o0o

The square yellow taxi approached Il Bel Sorriso with driving worthy of Nascar. It was a beautiful bed and breakfast located in Northern Italy. Flat faced, heavily windowed, and covered in ivy and roses; the building couldn't have been more beautiful and picturesque if it had been covered in pizza and pasta.

Isabella paid the cab driver, trying to fend off his attempts to help her with the luggage. They had almost crashed multiple time throughout the trip, all because of his full ignoring of road rules. Not only that, but as soon as she'd opened her mouth he had attempted to sell her something. It was a wonder how quickly these people were able to recognize an American. She practically had "Easy Target" written on her forehead.

The little lobby was just as lovely as the building's outside appearance. It had a cozy living room feel, with squishy plush couches, bookshelves stocked in different genres, and stacks of board games in bright, childish colours.

Almost completely attired in pink, with dangly earrings and ample exposed cleavage, "Viola" was helpful and adept at her trade. She plunked away at the keyboard, quickly ascertaining Isabella's verity—in beautifully accented English—and directed her to the best room.

Alice. Isabella shook her head a little, an indulgent smile on her vibrant, blood-red lips. Easily maneuvering her bags up the staircase, Isabella gasped at the simple beauty of her lodgings. Neat and comfortable was just her style.

It's nice to have family that cares for you, even if Edw—

Crashing onto the queen sized bed, the newborn wished—not for the first time—for the ability to cry real tears. Sobbing was the best she could do, and not nearly as satisfying. Attempting to pull herself out of self-pity, Isabella grabbed a copy of Agnes Grey out of her luggage, desperately trying to drag her mind into the book's vivid characters.

For three days the vampire hid herself in Il Bel Sorriso, not even bothering to keep up the pretence of ordering food. Most of her time was spent holed up in her room, easily devouring the library downstairs.

Isabella finally gave herself a mental slap after she finished the last novel the Sorriso owned. It was time to be a real tourist.

So she got Viola to help her get a cab, and took off for the city center. This taxi driver was much kinder than the last, with a jolly beard and no requirement for a reply. Santa Claus just chatted at her in fluent Italian while the beautiful lilting sound lulled the vampire as close to sleep as it was possible. Isabella attempted to pay attention and observe the beautiful buildings they passed, but to no avail.

Paying the nice driver extra, the girl received a bit of joy from his astonished expression. She then took off on "Operation Be A Tourist." Gathering up all her pluck, the vampire began a search for souvenirs.

It was unsuccessful.

Karma seemed to be maliciously playing with her emotions. Piano music, specifically Debussy, was heard in more the one shop. Isabella walked swiftly past, pushing down the desire to run as fast as she could. In fact, Isabella couldn't stand music anymore. Edward's passionate love for the stuff just kept shaking at her brain.

He's always gonna be here, watching me. She thought, trying to hide the desperate look on her face from passersby.

Murderer.

Disappointed and mental exhausted, Isabella returned to her safe haven, greeting Viola with a nod and small wave. The vampiress probably should have hunted yesterday, but she pushed down the thirst. Her control was fine.

Snuggling herself into one of the lobby's plush couches, she decided to reread And Then There Were None. It went well with her macabre mood.

Turning the pages at human pace was annoying, but one of the staff was flirting with Viola; and he was also staring blatantly at Isabella.

Pervert.

Viola finally shooed "Lorenzo" away, a blush showing through her heavy makeup. The smug man sauntered over to his next target—Isabella.

He plopped himself beside her, or perhaps a more true description—on her lap. Lorenzo reached up and tucked a vibrant lock of hair behind Isabella's ear.

The newborn had stilled all movement, becoming a divine chiseled statue.

Don't breathe. Go away, go away, GO AWAY!

"Your advances are not wanted nor appreciated, so I suggest you remove yourself from my vicinity." The Italian smirked, ignoring her tone. He was a very well-built man, but that was perhaps the only attractive thing he had to share.

"Now now, do not-a play hard to get beautiful gurl. You-a want me." With that, the dumbest man that ever lived went to plant a kiss on a vampire's neck.

All thought left Isabella's head. Caught by surprise, she'd taken a gasp of breath. It was all that needed for the heady scent of blood to coat her throat. Eyes went a foreboding black, the inner beast easily taking the reins of Isabella's control.

Never in her life had the immortal girl been so overtaken. There was no pondering, no analysing, only a terrible onslaught of one emotion—bloodlust.

There was blood everywhere, human screams ringing in her ears.

"Please no, please no." The woman had begged, with no mercy gained from the creature.

Two bodies lay on the ground, unrecognizable from the ferocious attack. Skin and bone had been removed by force, a leg lay here, a piece of throat there. Sinews of muscle and patches of skin decorated the wall. The room's entirety was covered in a mixture of deep red liquid and various other body fluids. In the midst stood the creature, slowly coming back to consciousness.

Isabella's eyes had once more become a vibrant red. The inner monster slowly retreated, sated at last.

But for how long?

The vibrant, brown-red hair was matted once again, a wild primordial expression adorning the girl as she pulled herself back from edge.

These humans were dead at her hands. The low voice chuckled, loudly expressing its opinion.

Murderer.

o0o0o0o

Edward couldn't move anything. His hands phased through every object he tried.

Being a ghost was so boring.

He could only do something when looking over his sibling's shoulders. And that was at the speed of a snail sliding along molasses while going to the party of that friend (the one nobody really likes).

So, slow.

The phantom paced around the house, sulking, a broody wrinkle being a natural part of his face. His previous life's stupidity only got more painful. The fact that his family barely observed his absence only rubbed salt in the wound.

Seated in the living room, the Cullen's were all surrounded by weighted clouds of sadness. Jasper had just returned home, and his sorrow brought them all down even more. Everything was grey and hopeless. The emotional depth which belongs to vampire only intensifying every ache.

The loss of Isabella's presence had been a big hit for them to take. She had been something new, not yet stuck in the rut of immortality. A little dash of life in the midst of daily boredom. Edward watched them, feeling lonely though surrounded by family.

Not mine though, I never let anyone be that for me.

I wish I had told them, just once, that I love their stupid faces.

Twiddling his thumbs, eyes on his lap, the specter wasn't observant of attention being shot his way. He'd lived so long without it after all. It seemed to have been years of this boring loneliness, but without an actual time piece, Edward couldn't be sure.

His figure flickered for a couple of seconds-drawing the sight of his former family-before the man became completely visible. Synchronized gasps sounded throughout the room.

"Edward," saucer-plate eyes, Carlisle leaped over the coffee table to envelope his son in a hug.

"Carlisle," the Adonis swept the room in a quick glance, surprise, not joy in their expressions.

Was this really happening? Were they really seeing him? It had been so long since he'd touched anyone. His face broke out into a smile, surprising everyone with the honest happiness it bore.

"Please Father, will you please sit down, I—have something to tell you all." With the decision made, Alice began grinning and swinging her feet with joy, Jasper watching his wife confusedly.

"I know I am undeserving of your forgiveness, but, I sincerely apologize for being a selfish—idiot. I—I love you, and I'm so sorry I never let any of you know that."

"Oh darling!" unable to sit any longer, Esme wrapped her son in a heartfelt hug. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of love so long lost.

Siblings exchanged looks, all but Alice determined to wait until Edward's true feeling were acted into truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Okay awesome humans! Not only is this story now at 70 follows, but I received 9 reviews for last chapter! Nine! That's double than what I've been receiving! You wanna try to beat it(wink wink)? BTW a nicely written, long review hits my heart like a freaking sledgehammer that fell 100 metres.
> 
> Woah my peeps! You super cool beings sure caught on to last chapter! I squeed so hard at the first commenter that realized Edward hadn't really died. Bella just turned him completely invisible guys!
> 
> If my attempt to write an Italian accent was painful for you, I sincerely apologize.
> 
> Super smart awesome cool(do you feel like I'm buttering ya up?) Reviewers of last chapter-
> 
> DeadliestdistractionRN
> 
> -Love the lack of empathy:)
> 
> Goldielover
> 
> -Thank you for being so sweet!
> 
> Lady Ramona
> 
> -You made my heart squee.
> 
> Pri-Chin 1410
> 
> -Your consistent commenting puts a smile on my face.
> 
> suziq968
> 
> -The intelligent one that noticed the inconsistency of Edward's death. You made me squee so hard I almost went delirious with happiness.
> 
> Caucau Black
> 
> -Thanks you so much for being so supportive. Virtual hug sent your way.
> 
> Hairbrusairbrush
> 
> -Sweetie! Don't ever think that constructive criticism of story confusion is being mean. Thank you so very much for your continued support:)
> 
> USNeshama
> 
> -Thx! I work hard to try to be well-written and different:)
> 
> traciebuie
> 
> -So vengeful! Don't worry, pain will most definitely be dished;)
> 
> Is individual responses something you'd like to see continued?
> 
> Just a little character explanation I feel the need to do. While Isabella will continue to get stronger emotionally, she probably won't be completely emotionally stable until the end of this fic. Also, I really, really want these characters to be nicely rounded and thought out. So if you see any weird inconsistencies, please gimme a holler.


	7. In Which Isabella Attempts Suicide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo meine Lieblingen? Wie geht's? Well, here's another chapter. If you see anything wrong, whether grammatically, behaviorally, or spelling wise, please gimme a shout.
> 
> Edward-Hi, I'm beautiful and you should immediately fall for me, letting me control you for the rest of your life.
> 
> Bella-No.
> 
> Edward-What! But I'm super duper hot, and I play piano
> 
> Bella-But you're a jerkface.
> 
> Edward-But that's only because I don't own Twilight, only Stephanie Meyer does. So there is no way NellieWolf123 owns even a smidge, like not even Corin's eyeball, she doesn't even own that.

"In Which Isabella Attempts Suicide"

Edward quickly became the most awkward feature of the Cullen family. The fact that he never responded to mental slip-ups was frankly, confusing. Old Edward would've had no mercy if a private thought occurred in his presence, letting everyone know the twisted stuff that went through your mind. It was the easiest way for him to assert his dominance, make it known how much better he considered himself.

With her usual smug smile and foreknowledge Alice had formed a friendship with the teenager. The relationship was a bit different than before, being the same one-way kind of mooch, but vice versa. The perfectly dressed pixie had acquired a slave for the price of none. She had no scruples in getting Edward to do her bidding; his moral overthrow making it impossible for him to say a simple "no." This torture provided constant amusement for the Cullen siblings, with a bit of disbelief thrown in to keep it interesting. They watched the play with rapture, waiting for Edward to finally break.

Over time, the two actually started to become friends. Beginning after Edward was startled by his first hug in what seemed like eternity; their bond just continued to grow. Edward had been at a desperate point of neglect when he'd reappeared; sucking up love like a long-dry sponge, willing to do anything to receive it. While the Cullens had only lived four days without his presence, to Edward it had been closer to decades, observing everything go by at a snail's pace.

Esme was the next to warm up to her changed son. The maternal instincts had been there since her change, but she'd always expected to be pushed away. After several weeks of watching him learn to be attentive to his little sister; her coldness would begin to thaw. He put up with a lot more loving gestures than previously, another source of amusement for the Cullens. Edward got a certain look about him if you gave him one too many hugs, a twitching of the left eye, a thinning of the lips. It was hilarious.

Not to say Mr. Masen never made mistakes. It was just lucky he had a psychic sister to give him that look before he ran his mouth. Alice was a godsend, really she was. After years of no contact beyond petty bickering, she'd seen his future and loved (and used) him immediately. The things the psychic did and was doing for him warmed his heart to the point of mush.

Alice's husband however, was acting rather odd. While he'd returned from his "errand," the soldier seemed different, twitchy and uncomfortable. Every little thing Alice did got on his nerves. The fact that his wife didn't know why he was acting this way made her incredibly frustrated, and a barrier began to form between the two, causing her to seek out Edward's attention all the more.

Jasper would never warm up to Edward, bearing a sort of unexplained animosity to the boy's presence. Jasper abhorred Edward, for some unknown reason. The Southern Major tried not to influence anyone with his feelings, spending many hours alone, wishing desperately for Isabella to return. His eyes became increasingly intense, hiding sadness and longing from in the yellowish depths. The little things he used to do for Alice and the Cullen family to show his appreciation were fading with each passing day.

In short, he was unhappy.

But he worked hard to disguise and contain his feelings, making sure that the others were as uneffected as possible.

The easy and loveable Emmett would soon come around to the idea of a nice Edward after Esme began mothering the bronze-haired boy—and he let her.

Rosalie would be the very last, taking a plentiful amount of kind advances. Flowers and countless washings of her car were among the least of things to be contributed toward the building of a friendship. A friendship she had no scruples throwing away if he did one thing wrong. Slightly bitter yes, but also rightly precautious.

Not to say that all was forgiven at the drop of a hat, for many years to come a hint of resentment would always be in the back of the family's minds. True acceptance would take a ton of consistency and holding of the tongue. But Edward was determined to achieve it, if he ever were to die—truly die—he wasn't going to have any regrets. He would love his family no matter how they treated him.

A week after Isabella's departure, Alice and Edward were in the room the psychic and the empath shared, a longsuffering look on his face while she painted his nails a vibrant lime green.

"Alice, remind me again of the purpose of this."

The pixie giggled, giving him a sly grin.

"I want to see how this shade of nail polish goes with my skin, and you love me."

Giving her a pointed look, he remained where he was, provoking her to laugh harder. Suddenly, her eyes went wide, causing her to drop the nail polish, the garish colour spreading across the floor. Shock spread across Alice's face as she received a vision, the emotion mirrored on Edward's as the future played out in 20/20 clarity.

-Woosh-Woosh-Woosh-Woosh-

A cloaked figure walked down a grand stony hallway, torches lighting the walls. Attired in all black, two bulky vampires ominously led her along.

The self-possessing way in which this woman walked was incredibly odd. She seemed completely confident, with long steps and a straight back; however, something in her stride professed an obvious hate of the self.

Sins had been committed by this figure. At least, she obviously thought so.

Leading the figure into a large throne room, the men stood guard on either side as the woman bowed low.

Three beautifully adorned chairs stood in the middle of the room, in which sat three awe-inspiring vampires. They radiated power and might, watching in the silent assessment of wise old men.

"Isabella the newborn...Masters." Announced the guard to Isabella's left.

Flinging off her hood with grace, red eyes unflinchingly bored into the middle king.

Smiling at the youngling's lack of fear, the middle king, Aro, held out his hand to her. Caius and Marcus, the kings to Aro's left and right respectively, leaned back in unacted boredom.

Keeping eye-contact, Isabella placed her small hand in the transport of Aro's powers, knowing full well of the probable consequences.

Expression drained away from Aro's face. There was nothing, absolutely nothing! He threw her hand away, trying to regain control of his emotions.

The boredom previously described had been swept away from Marcus and Caius' faces, both leaning forward in interest, waiting for their brother to explain.

"Jane? Would you mind?" Fear finally struck the blood-red eyes of Isabella as she closed them, wincing at the thought of her impending doom.

Nothing happened.

A very frustrated blond woman-girl turned a pouty look on her sire, having just as little luck. Aro finally elaborated. "It seems Isabella is a shield of some sort."

A look was shared between the three kings, silent conversation only they could exchange. Surprisingly, Caius was the ancient that took the lead questioning role.

"Young one, what is it that you seek?"

Lifting pain-filled eyes, Isabella pleaded with barely contained pain.

"Death. I came here to ask for your assistance in my suicide."

Carefully observing the vampiress, the trio exchanged another look.

"Why is it that this is what you seek?"

Stopping to consider an answer, Isabella spoke near silently.

"I, I don't believe my family-the Cullens-will be able to forgive me... I killed—"

choked up, she swallowed before continuing. "Humans."

Aro's smug grin appeared for a second, before disappearing at Caius' almost unseen command. Whilst Aro and Caius were "arguing" Marcus joined the conversation.

"We offer you one year of servitude for the Volturi in trade for what you ask."

Fury tightened the skin on Aro and Caius' faces, a small smile alighting Marcus' countenance at their reaction.

"I—okay." Felix, a muscular and handsome vampire looking to have been changed sometime in his 20's, led the confused Isabella away. At the kings' command, the rest of the guard quickly followed.

-Did you know dusk is the darkest part of twilight?-

Snapping out of the vision, pained eyes staring into eyes of similar feeling.

"Isabella just agreed to be part of the Volturi." Breathed Alice.

"She wanted to die because she drank human blood." Said a voice of suffering, belonging to Edward.

Turning to stone, the two would only be brought back to life hours later, when the rest of the family returned from hunting. Hopelessness shook them to the core, knowing there was very little to be done now that Isabella had made her choice. The choice to join the most powerful vampire coven in existence.

-I'm Batman! JK I'm afraid of heights-

Giving not so sneaky glances in Felix's direction, Isabella was led to a lavishly adorned bedroom.

"Wait," she grabbed his arm, turning deep, wine-coloured eyes to meet hers.

"You are wondering how I can stand to take human life?"

Confusion gathered between her eyebrows, a slow nod his answer.

"Sweetie, did you eat meat as a human?"

"Well...yes." Smiling predatory, Felix stalked close to Isabella, letting her backstep herself against a wall. The looming red-eyed figure took pleasure in her unease.

"You obviously did not feel guilty if you continued to do so. Humans are born with the ability to grow canines for that very purpose. You are a vampire. So why do you feel bad for partaking in your natural diet?" as the vampire spoke, passion lit a fire in his expression, making his eyes shine and voice tremble with conviction. "Does a cougar feel guilty about eating a deer? Of course not, it needs to eat. As do you also, eating is a necessary part of life, and we just happen to be on the top of the food chain."

Stopping for breath, Felix observed Isabella's behavior, noting she was not yet convinced. And with a gentle kiss on her forehead that surprised even himself, Felix left the room.

-Käse ist mein Leben-

With guards scarcely out of the room, Aro exploded into anger, Caius being better contained.

"What in the world possessed you to offer her that?"

"It will take much less time than a year to get her to change those silly morals instilled in her by the Cullens." Replied Marcus, Caius and Aro still throwing glares of heavy sharpness his way.

"And you just thought that no beforehand discussion between us was okay?" A sarcastic laugh sounded from the seer of bonds.

"She is incredibly strong, you both know that, we need her undying loyalty. I assure you, by the end of her term she will be a force to be reckoned with."

Slightly calmed down, the two brothers read the surety in Marcus' eyes, overlooking the offense for the good of the coven.

One blond-haired head and two brown bent together, eyes and lips exchanging information as they schemed. Isabella was much too important to be let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N. So I feel like it's important to tell those of you who didn't already notice, the Volturi have been changed. I wanted it to actually be more of a three leaders instead of Aro running the whole show. Also, Aro isn't stupid. Marcus is important, the best way to keep someone's loyalty is NOT TO KILL THEIR WIFE/YOUR SISTER, DUDE!


	8. In Which Isabella Hides Underneath a Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hallo! So this is chapter 8. Longer chapter than usual, which I hope you'll enjoy. I've been binge watching Friends lately and now the song Smelly Cat is stuck in my head. Smelly cat, sm-elly cat, what are they feeding you? It just won't go away. While kinda annoying, it drives my mom up the wall, which is amusing. As always, if something is up with ma lingo pleaz gimme a shout:)
> 
> -Reviews are really super awesome things that make me want to write more. Pls think 'bout it, really makes my day.
> 
> -Nellie of the Wolf likes to eat cheese and bread...and she also (pouty face) doesn't own Twilight.

"In Which Isabella Hides Underneath a Table"

Isabella's silence was, frankly, confusing. To be offered a position in the Volturi was a great honour, not to be disregarded with the insipid expression Isabella habitually donned. She did what she was told, always, but never said a word unless spoken to.

One year Isabella. One year more and then you'll be absolutely free, this guilt will finally be gone.

Gone forever.

She certainly made Felix's life harder than necessary. Most newborns were too emotional unstable to cause anything but the usual problems. This con was a pro in how moldable they were during that stage. But the girl was smart, and skilled; this being not the best combination when trying to add just a teensy bit of brainwash to the equation.

And Felix wasn't the only one that found Isabella frustrating. Renata and Afton, gifted with shielding abilities and mental invisibility, respectively, took Isabella's silence as a personal affront. They felt incredibly threatened by Isabella's gifts, believing themselves to soon be replaced, and willing to do anything to halt such a happening.

Felix was trusted with being Isabella's protector, and as such it was his job to mold and make her into the perfect guard. The man quickly ascertained the best people to surround her with in order to aid the process of assimilation. He needed other vampires to help convince the newborn of human blood's lack of sin. And certainly, being watched constantly by the three kings motivated Felix beyond comparison. Demetri, Alec, and Jane, his choices (don't be fooled; they were following the masters' orders, not his). They were all the most loyal to the kings, and also incredibly intelligent when they wanted to be, making them absolutely perfect for the job.

First task: Isabella had to be trained. Quickly put to work, the brown-haired beauty was a fast learner, excelling at strategy, fear-mongering, and attaining knowledge.

"Remember Isabella, your face may be blank, but your body language is broadcasting for the world to see, the enemy should never know what your plans are." Said Demetri quietly, his voice carrying from where he was across the arena. The tracker smirked as he watched Felix attempting to sneak up on the aforementioned newborn, knowing full of the muscular vampire's chances. He really only spent time with Felix for the entertainment value, the man was always doing something stupid to jeopardize his position.

Throwing his arms around her waist, Felix cursed as Isabella completely disappeared, managing to phase through matter, a new skill the training team was honing.

Demetri was roaring in laughter—at Felix's disgruntled expense—as he came over the join the pair, going to shake Isabella's hand. She shook it shortly, her face impassive and dull in its emotion.

"You are getting much better, Isabella." Praised Felix.

"Thanks, may I go?"

"Sure, actually," the large vampire cocked his head to side, "It is time go to the sanctuary, is that alright?"

Demetri and Felix shared a grin as they led the girl to her first feed. Surely once Heidi brought the humans into range the newborn would be unable to resist. None of them ever could. It had taken them all years before they could control themselves at their hungriest point, let alone when the humans brought in began bleeding.

Entering through the back door, the three vampires joined the coven's gathering. Aro, Caius, and Marcus were obviously the centre of the circle; Didyme having a large collection of smiling admirers. The other wives were a little more removed, speaking only with the higher level guards or one of the kings. Isabella watched with an observant eye, storing information, not willing to make a mistake and postpone her death.

Felix was holding her arm, calmly leading Isabella toward the highest circle. Marcus greeted his charge with an honest smile, holding her hand between his, watching Isabella's impassive expression with concern.

"My dear, how are you doing today?"

"I"m fine, thanks for asking."

Leaving eye-contact with the newborn, Felix frustratingly found himself under scrutiny. He needed to pick up the pace in order to avoid punishment. The pressure was on, and there wasn't a chance in hell the burly vampire would accept failure.

Silencing simultaneously, the coven listened closely in anticipation. The guard's new additions were looking forward to this, twitchy and impatient.

"Built in 100 A.D during the reign of…these stones were a symbol of... and now we are entering the throne room where…"

Isabella realized much too late whose voice was explaining the castle's history. She'd been at Voltura for a week, and had heavily debated what to do about the feeding situation. But she'd walked into this trap like a—stupid, stupid—innocent little lamb.

Attempting to make a break for it, Felix easily stopped and held the snarling newborn. Realizing her mistake, and attempting to get herself under control, she felt herself phase in and out sight as her embarrassment grew. Everyone was watching her now, she'd made such a scene. But what could she do? The thought of killing more humans made her feel absolutely sick with shame and self-loathing.

Turning pleading eyes to Master Marcus—receiving his full attention—she begged with all her might.

"Please, please-please-please don't make me do it. Please don't make me."

Felix cursed himself, had he really thought it would be this easy? Well of course he had, the girl was unlike any other newborn before her. It took most vampires years before the bloodlust didn't control their every thought, and usually by the time it wore off they just didn't care. But Isabella had been indoctrinated—for a year—into believing killing humans (their natural food source mind you) was wrong. Match this with her wit and he had a large problem on his hands.

Marcus gave a small nod, Felix releasing the embarrassed Isabella just as the heavy double doors creaked open.

The smell almost made Isabella lose control, almost, but with one backwards glance at the death-approaching (and confused) humans, she managed to tear herself from the scene.

Big jet black eyes, with an all-overtaking expression of lust. Not just a few of the unmated guard desired the powerful brunette at this point in time. They had heard the gossip of the emotionless and powerful Isabella, but this was full proof.

Watching their brother carefully, Caius and Aro didn't say anything about the boon he'd granted. After discovering the full extent of Isabella's abilities, she would need to be dealt with in very careful manner. If Isabella wanted, she could leave the Volturi and never come back, never be found. There was no ability that could track her. No one could locate her if she didn't want to be. And someone that could hide themselves from the Volturi? That was a person to be reckoned with.

-Blood-Makes-Me-Faint

Hidden underneath an end table located beside her useless bed, Isabella tried desperately to get herself under control. The Volturi wouldn't be swayed by pure emotions, not like the Cullens were. She'd have to be absolutely cunning in the way she dealt with them, their loyalty was a requisite in order to complete her plans.

Curled up in a ball, head on her knees, the newborn tried not to sob. Everything was all messed up. She'd killed three people, three people who could've had lives and future happiness. Why wouldn't the Volturi just let her die? It was the one thing in life she deserved.

Feeling powerful and invigorated, attired in all black, Felix was a sight to behold. Striding down the halls with a long-instilled confidence, the vampire carefully schemed. There would no more slacking off, Isabella needed to talk and be talked to, whatever was flying through that little brain of hers was important.

Perhaps he'd originally taken the wrong approach. Having been recruited because of his strength. Felix was a strong newborn that had never lost his power, the man was quite used to getting his way byway of threats and punches.

With a tightened jaw, Felix knocked on Isabella's door, steadying himself for the onslaught of—a woman's emotions.

"You may enter."

Felix approached slowly, glancing around at the characterless room. Isabella stood in the middle, brushing invisible dirt off her skirt, looking slightly more put together.

The man swept his eyes to and fro across the doe's frame, ascertaining mental stability. Stepping almost into her personal space, his presence seemed to surround her, Felix's intensity appearing to pull air out from the endroits, increasing the pressure. If Isabella was human the difficulty of breathing would relate to that on Machu Picchu.

"I would like to apologize, about the feed. It was extremely harmful to you, in this case, for me to avoid your wishes. I am sincerely sorry."

Eyebrows scrunched together as the newborn caught on to the apology's wording, angry, she blurted, "So in other cases it would be okay for you to just go over my head?"

Smiling rather deviously, Felix stepped fully into Isabella's personal bubble, tucking a free lock of hair behind her ear, he leaned in and whispered.

"Sweetie, you are seventeen and I am seven hundred years of age. Perhaps you should ponder this little tidbit of information."

Isabella frowned, becoming transparent for a couple of seconds as she realized her idiocy. Looking up to apologize, the newborn lost herself in what was obviously one of Felix's most powerful weapons—attraction.

Smoldering eyes, a powerful looming figure, words were easily lost when this was unleashed.

Stumbling back a couple of steps, Isabella grimaced, suddenly nervous.

"I'm so sorry, I spoke before I thought, how stupid of me."

"Do not trouble yourself. You were introduced to this life, what, one year ago? Mistakes will no doubt be made."

Isabella froze in place as Felix enveloped her in hug, wishing for a second to close her eyes and imagine Emmett's kind eyes.

But no, she didn't deserve that, not after what she'd done. Why would they ever want her?

"Now," stepping back with both of his hands on Isabella's shoulders, Felix dazzled her again, "Master Marcus has given me orders to take you for an animal hunt, will your control be good enough to pass through the city?"

With a wide-eyed nod, Isabella hurried to follow her guard's long strides. Felix led the newborn to a sleek Porsche operated by beautiful childlike blond woman. Turning her head to watch the oncomers, an emotional intensity was gathering in Jane's eyes, hidden to the human eye via sunglasses.

There was no doubt in Isabella's mind. Jane was not an immortal child, she was a very strong (and scary) ancient vampire.

Impatiently sighing as Felix took his sweet time helping the newborn in, Jane grinned almost maniacally when her foot finally revved up the gas. It was one of the little pain-inflicter's most enjoyed activities to drive; speed and control brought her happiness almost as big as when a strong vampire had dropped down to the ground, writhing in glorious suffering.

Feeling thirsty and emotionally unstable, it was a relief to Isabella when Jane's rather speedy (and dangerous, if they were human) driving had brought them to their destination.

Jane was already tapping her fingers on the steering wheel when Felix and Isabella exited the car.

Isabella studied the surroundings, making sure no humans were present. Felix followed closely as the newborn broke into a run, nose high, searching for her meal.

Concentrating hard to avoid the free feeling that she desperately wanted to bask in. Isabella had almost broke down, and was very relieved when the rather repugnant smell of a deer coated her olfactory senses, being even more offensive to her guard.

She quickly brought down the weaker animal, teeth slicing through its neck like butter. Gulping down the blood hungrily, Isabella was not oblivious to the curious (and quite disgusted) face of her counterpart.

Licking her lips as she turned, Felix was standing almost nose to nose close, a surprised jump and squeak occurring in response.

"How is it you can stand this? Why is it so different to take the life of animal compared to the life of a human?" He asked, rather rhetorically. The two endured a few seconds of silence before the impatient man blurted. "Is that enough for you?"

"I should probably have another."

"Alright, but keep in mind, Jane may not be able to use her ability on you, but that does not mean she will be against other forms of punishment."

And with that, the smart newborn was gone, hurrying to catch a second prey.

-The next bit is sort-of a flashback-

His first and only friend as a vampire, Peter and Jasper had had a great bond. The team they'd made during the Southern Wars had been the most efficient, Maria prizing the two above all others. Not only were they strong, but they were born soldiers. They absolutely adored battle; the rush of adrenaline when another vampire's venom burned through your skin, the happiness that flowed when your attacker was completely destroyed, the pride induced by a win.

Peter and Jasper were always meant to be on a battlefield.

To be truthful, the two would've stayed forever, but Peter had met Charlotte. The little vampire had completely captured Peter's heart, and because she was dead meat in a fight, it was necessary for the brothers to leave.

They had traveled together for many years before Jasper simply got tired of Peter's "mate." Even though Jasper was the only reason Charlotte was alive, she heavily resented his presence, likening him to a third wheel.

Peter and Jasper had been growing apart for a long time, or rather, Charlotte had grown between them. Tired of being second choice, Jasper had left, leaving Peter to slowly become resentful of Charlotte's interference and his own decisions regarding a certain blonde man. Becoming a bitter old vampire, Peter wasn't surprised when Charlotte left him. After this occurred; however, Peter began to realize how alone he was, and that it was his own fault. Sinking into a pit of depression, he made one last call before deciding to kill himself.

The Cullens had accepted Jasper and Alice with open arms back in the 1950's. But Jasper had felt the slight fear that accompanied looks at his scars. Certain moments brought out the major in him, making the other vampires wary of his presence. But to be loved, to be accepted, even just a little, had been enough at the time. Lately it hadn't been the same, especially with the introduction of Isabella to their family. He never got to spend as much time with her as he wanted, and Carlisle was always trying to censor whatever Jasper said. The soldier wanted to teach Isabella to fight, to defend herself, but the others believed the newborn too fragile, wanting to postpone the necessary. Human blood was another thing never mentioned around Isabella, the very concept of drinking it shunned and reviled. Jasper believed wholeheartedly that Isabella should at least be given the choice.

His 911 Porsche zipping across the freeway, Jasper was incredibly impatient. Peter had sounded broken on the phone, voice cracking and hopeless. If Jasper ever saw Charlotte again, she would not live to see another day. Of this the soldier was absolutely confident.

Pulling out his phone to check the location again, he pulled into a one-lane dirt road, driving until he finally came to the lone building for miles. An old log cabin, its ceiling caved and windows smashed in.

The inside of the cabin was unlit, not a problem for vampire eyes, but no one was inside. Bringing his inner creature to control, Jasper zipped through the forest, following the well-known scent of his former brother.

Stopping suddenly, a confused Jasper studied his surroundings. The scent had stopped, but there was no sign of Peter.

There was a small mound of dirt out of place, like at a gravesite. Digging like mad, Jasper quickly uncovered the body. Desiccated like a corpse, Peter's skin was wrinkled like a prune, his eyes were sunken and unresponsive, and the pupils were a blurry-mud colour.

"Peter! Peter! What have you done?"

Not waiting for an answer, Jasper threw the body over his shoulder, running as fast as possible to the nearest human civilization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I took some liberties, (as it was never fully explained, and if it was, I don't care, this is how I want it to be) this story is AU and a fanfiction, so I can do that. The whole "what happens if a vampire doesn't drink blood" was never really explained. So I figured if someone did manage to survive ferocious bloodlust, they would go all Vampire Diaries dessicated corpse-ish until getting more of the stuff.


	9. In Which Massacres Occur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! How's y'all doing? Squ-wee! Guys! This story is almost at 100 followers! Thank you so much for the reading dedication and wonderful comments:)
> 
> James-I am a smart and good hunter.
> 
> Isabella-Fo-shur that's true. And while we are telling some whoppers let me inform you all… NellieWolf123 owns Twilight!
> 
> Narrator-No she doesn't (blows nose loudly in tissue)
> 
> James-But I'll tell you one true thing. This isn't Twilight! The characters and plot has been changed!
> 
> -Nellie of the Wolf writes stuff

"In Which Massacres Occur"

In those few minutes of trepidation and self-blame, Jasper Whitlock ran faster than ever before, faster than if he was running from savage newborn. He wasn't crossing those miles for himself, this was for Peter Garcia; who had been his best friend since the world had burned and popped, finally settling into inhuman sharpness. Flashing through his mind with crystal clarity, Jasper remember how Peter was the first newborn he'd ever met whose emotions didn't overpower Jasper's own.

When he had woke from the fiery torment all those years ago, lust had been the only thing he'd felt. Acting purely by animal instinct, he had used his ability to defeat all opponents and please the scrupulous leader—Maria. Peter had been his breath of fresh air, his brother; separation would never change that. His brother had provided a different perspective of the world, Peter's silver tongue helping to sway Jasper's miserable preconceptions. In a matter of months Peter managed to bring feeling to light, something other than the overpowering desire for human blood.

To let such a man die, a man that had been his companion when there was no one else, that would be a travesty.

I would kill myself.

Finally stumbling upon a bit of civilization, the relatively middle-class house in the outskirts of Jacksonville was perfect for his dire needs.

Jasper sped inside, crashing through the door, splinters of wood going in all directions. The shock of the two inhabitants, an ordinary middle-aged couple, was a delicious reminder of old times. Seated in the living room, a soap opera blaring, the future victims stood up at his entrance. Their eyes were wide and darting, both people twitching in an intense desire to be at a different location. Whoever this creature was, it wouldn't do to anger him. Yellow orbs observed them carefully, a side-grin trapping the humans like a spell.

Our guardian angel, sent down from above, why did I ever want to run away?

Not spending any more time in enjoyment, Jasper grabbed one mortal in each arm, ignoring their screaming as bones cracked under the vampire's urgency. Seconds was all the time it took for him to break through the house's wall, wood scraping flesh from his victims' skin.

Throwing the man down upon the ground, Jasper maneuvered the woman's neck against Peter's mouth, pushing her skin easily through the desiccated vampire's teeth. The woman's still pumping blood began to flow down Peter's throat. Her fear spiked deliciously as death approached, the blond closed his eyes, humming as the smell of fresh blood filled the air.

Wrinkled skin smoothed out, the colour drained into pale normality. Hands twitched, flexing and coming up to hold the body closer. Moaning loudly as he tossed the now bloodless body away, Peter's open and vibrant begging eyes focused onto Jasper. The soldier quickly handed over the man.

Standing up, sated and whole once again, Peter studied Jasper, questioningly.

"Por qué hiciste eso? Tienes que morir." The vibrant colours of Peter's emotions rose and fell, the taste of bitterness and depression souring Jasper's mouth.

"Pero tu eres mi amigo, mi mejor amigo. No te puedo perder." Suspicion flooded the air as the sorrowful vampire took in the soldier's words.

"Why are you lying to me? You left me and never came back. Running off with that crazy little psychic, and look at you now! You changed yourself for them," he screwed his face up in anger, "pacifist."

"Peter, what did you think would happen? Charlotte had her claws in you bone-deep, and at every turn she would try to shove your opinion of me in the mud. I ain't gonna hang around just to be the darn third wheel."

His anger still pulsing, Peter turned around and stomped away, Jasper closely behind.

The friction between the two lasted months of silence and glares. Peter was angry that Jasper had left, his wrath only growing when Jasper refused to partake in any human feasts with him. Jasper was furious because Peter had no reason to be. As soon as he was sure the depressed vampire wasn't going to attempt suicide again, Jasper was going back to the Cullens, his family, where he belonged. Red eyes would only drive a bigger wedge between him and them, no matter how much he missed the adrenaline rush and power that accompanied a hunt.

0o0o0o0o0

Knowledge was important. Isabella knew that full well. It could easily mean the difference life and death. The eternal teenager was positive that had she not learned how to stretch ingredients as a child she would've died, hands down.

The Volturi had knowledge, intellect much far beyond her own. It was imperative that she learned what she could to earn their respect. If they respected her, there was less chance of them going over her head, trying to force her into unwanted things (like eating humans).

So when Isabella wasn't training with Felix and Demetri, she was usually hiding in the Volturi's very extensive library devouring books and languages ferociously. This is where Alec, the more patient and silent of the witch twins, found her that morning.

"Qu'est-ce tu faites?" [What are you doing?] Inquired the young-looking vampire, seating himself across from Isabella who had walled herself in with towers of books.

"Seul un peu de Philosophie, je dois apprendre beaucoup de la subject." [Just a little bit of Philosophy, I must learn a lot of the subject]

Raising an eyebrow as Isabella awkwardly stuck her nose back in the book; Alec grabbed the collection of poems at the top of her wavering stack, flipping through, stroking his beardless chin in thought.

It was interesting, not one book in her column was on the same topic, history, chemistry, biology, and even a Jane Austen novel (Jane was particularly partial to her novels, a joke that could easily bring a lot of pain into your life.).

"Jeunesse, pourquoi tu apprendras ca? Certainement, Tes abilities sont suffisamment pour ton place." [Young one, why are you learning this? Certainly, you abilities are enough for your place]

Biting her lower lip, Isabella carefully placed a bookmark inside. Being naturally shy, the newborn had yet to spend enough time with Alec to be comfortable in his presence.

Alec was one of the most respected of all the Volturi. The man was extremely intelligent, knowing a large collection of skills and being extremely helpful in battle. Silence was one of his biggest weapons. Alec never spoke unless he completely pondered something of use to the conversation. Being so mysterious had the side-effect of making a large portion of the guard fearful of his presence. Having the talent of blocking all of your opponent's senses was something no-one wanted to experience. He was perhaps more feared than Jane, because of how subtle and spontaneous Alec's attacks could be.

"Tu veux acquérir puissance, non?" [You want to acquire strength, right?]

The big-eyed doe slowly nodded.

"Me laisseras-tu t'apprendre?"

"Oui." She breathed.

A slight smile at his victory, Alec slid his chair beside hers, placing the book out of her reach.

"Well the first thing you should know is that the thing that will get others to respect you the most are battle skills. So…"

Where Felix had been trying for weeks through speeches and coquette whispers to get Isabella to feel comfortable as part of the Volturi, it only took Alec a matter of days. He was able to put concepts in a way that she understood, being gentle and silent were Felix had been loud and abrasive.

The smart vampire had seen Felix's failings, and knowing full of Isabella's importance to the kings, Alec had decided to step in.

Marcus, who had been watching Isabella carefully, was very thankful for Alec's interference. Isabella had been adjusting horribly with her environment; she needed to form real bonds to the castle and its inhabitants in order to want to remain. The king watched with pride as Isabella began to bloom, becoming more political in her dealings with the guard, and watched Alec intently as to copy his acts.

Being genuinely stumped when it was realized Aro's gift was ineffectual on Isabella, it was no surprise her first guard hadn't quite been the right fit. The kings had become a bit lazy in their dealings with newborns, relying on Aro's ability perhaps a bit too much.

It was actually a bit exciting. The leaders of the Volturi coven could easily get stuck in routine for hundreds of years with no interesting people or events to pull them out of it. The challenge that Isabella brought was a welcome breath of fresh air.

o0o0o0o

The halls of the Volturi castle were beautiful. Gothic-style high ceilings with paintings and antiques lining the walls from all ages. Red carpet lined the floor, softening steps that would be loud against the cold stone. Dust was an unusual sight, as there was a couple of low-level guard assigned to that job. An even spacing of unlit torches was a decoration usually reserved to be illuminated only for guests, as vampires do not need light to see.

On her way to the library—as per her usual routine, Isabella felt a prickling on the back of her neck. Footsteps that weren't quite silent were following. Knowing full well that those stomps were being made so as to intimidate, the newborn's mind flew through her options.

Stopping her progress down the hall, Isabella straightened her back and frosted her tone, turning around to see the faces of the furious Renata and Anton.

"What is it that you seek?" Renata, a short, red-haired vampire turned around 300 years ago, looked to be barely keeping herself from jumping at Isabella's throat. Anton, her partner in crime, was considerably more put together, a step back from Renata's position as if to keep himself from getting fully involved.

"As if you have any place to speak to us in that manner!" Screeched the redhead, "Trying to take our positions, well we will show you, right Anton?"

Her smarter lover, Anton, took one glance at Isabella posture before grabbing Renata's arm, attempting to pull her away.

"Your friend is considerably smarter than yourself, if you value your life, I would suggest not ever approaching me in this manner again."

And with that, Isabella turned on her heel and made herself scarce, leaving the not-so-intelligent Renata sounding quite close to a Banshee.

"Renata darling, you have to see how Master Marcus dotes on her, surely you realize how much you will alienate yourself from the rest of the group if you continue in this behavior?"

But the redhead didn't listen, her jealousy overriding all of her self-preservation instincts, and breaking whatever bond she and Anton had had before.

O0o0o0o

An old inn stood surrounded by trees and little else, secluded from its town. Death screams were echoing, heard by no one but the perpetrators. Two flawless men were the only "living" things left. Bodies of all shapes and sizes littered the floor, some with heads on the other side of the room, pulled off in a moment of gluttonous passion.

Vibrant and strong, the blond had not a speck of blood on his clothing. His eyes matched the colour of his lips, smeared with life taken from another.

The brunet was in similar shape, grinning at the look of satisfaction of Jasper's face. In a matter of seconds he was across the room in front of Jasper, solidly squeezing his brother's shoulder. The two siblings, brought together again by the hunt, embraced, chuckles reverberating in their throats.

"Mi hermano, te extrañe."

"Lo siento." Whispered Peter in reply. And with that, all was forgiven. No tears were shed, no more recounting of offenses. That part of the pair's life was over.

Suddenly, the cellphone in Jasper's pocket began ringing in an extremely upbeat (and annoying) tone.

Flipping it open and sticking it up to his ear, Jasper became irritable to discover it was Alice that had wrecked their moment.

"What?...Edward's dead, and? Isabella? What happened with Isabella? That can't be true, Alice! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Hanging up the phone, the blond soldier exchanged glances with his brother, who said, "Go. Give it a couple of weeks then give me a call if you still want to leave them."

"Peter, you can't be serious?"

"I can and I am. I'll be fine, you don't have to worry 'bout no more suicide attempts from now on; however, I want to be sure this ain't the human blood talking."

Nodding at the strength of Peter's argument, Jasper embraced him again, whispering, "Don't have a worry mi hermano, I'll be back within a month."

And he was. Exactly one month later Jasper showed up at Peter's cabin, accompanied by a large bear-like man with a blonde bombshell on his arm.

After Isabella's absence, the world had immediately been without light for Emmett. He and Rose had been attached to her with a bond like that of older siblings. A mere month had seemed to drag much longer, and Edward's reappearance had made the three irritable for the majority of the time. After Alice and Edward had informed the family that Isabella had been accepted into the Volturi, Jasper, along with Rosalie and Emmett had carefully planned and resolved to go and ask to join the guard. Peter's abode was just a pitstop.

Next stop, the most powerful vampire coven in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: I'd like to make the point of saying that my vampires never kill children. Chillins are adorable and should not be killed by vampires, ever, or I will cry so hard. SQUEE! Babies! (Can you tell I'm over-hormonal?)


	10. In Which Former Veggies Join the Volturi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! First off, let me thank my two consistent reviewers who always give a helpful word. Traceybuie! Thanks for reminding me about the whole surname change thing, I tried to emphasize that in this chapter. Suziq968! Lol, reinflated?
> 
> Everyone, here my squee! This story has now reached 104 followers! (Nellie of the Wolf was found last night lying on the floor of her bedroom, killed by oversqueeing. She will be dearly missed)
> 
> Did anybody notice the art I posted a couple of chapters ago? I took a drawing I found on Pinterest, redrew it, modified and coloured it to my liking. It's what I imagine Bella to look like in this fic, if you didn't already figure that out.
> 
> If any readers if this story want to suggest future plot points or part of the character development, PLEASE DO SO! I absolutely love to read suggestions and different perspectives. Also, as always, if there is something you see wrong with the chapter structure I would like to know. I give the chapters a couple of checks before I post them, but I'm not infallible.
> 
> Isabella-So how was that whole mummy thing?
> 
> Peter-(groans) painful, don't ever try to off yourself that way.
> 
> Isabella-It hurt a lot eh? Kinda like the fact that NellieWolf123 doesn't own Twilight? 'Cause that is an emotionally traumatizing event that just keeps bringing on the pain.
> 
> -Nellie of the Wolf

"In Which Former Veggies Join the Volturi"

After experiencing the renewal of his bond with Peter, it was easy to see how lacking Jasper's relationship was with Alice.

Had it ever not been so?

When she was bouncy and excited, he was sobre and thoughtful. While it was easy for her to accidentally bulldoze over the feelings of others in her excitement, Jasper masterfully avoided and manipulated to suit his needs. The two clashed often, with Alice at the winning end because of how close her beliefs were to Carlisle's. Jasper could clearly see-after experiencing life once more-that Alice was not his mate and would never be his other half. His only problem was how to break the news without her scratching the eyeballs from his head.

And as the days past, the end of his trial month with the Cullens just seemed to drag-with a heavier ball at the end of Jasper's chain.

Going back to the animal diet was difficult, it always had been after a binge. But Jasper had needed to gorge on the stuff to keep his eyes from showing his blond was easily irritated, especially after he learned his "brother's" undead 's appearance and change of heart grated on his very last nerve. The easy forgiveness given by Esme and Carlisle was evidence of how little they cared about human life; however, they didn't seem to be able to allow their "children" to actually choose which blood source they wanted to live by. If that coven member wanted to stay they would need to cut all ties from human-drinking. And while Carlisle and Esme were kind-hearted people and good parents, they weren't his, and being treated this way was completely degrading.

Being sentenced to this month of infancy, Jasper Whitlock did the only thing any sane man would do.

He sulked.

A lot.

The man was so close to freedom from the bindings that had held him for over half a century's time. Yet time seemed to take this in mind, dragging at the speed of a snail sliming over molasses on a hot summer's day. Many attempts at "cheering Jasper up" were made by the Cullens, to no result other than a growth to said man's annoyance.

It was Rosalie that finally got Jasper to stop sulking in the woods by himself.

She joined him.

Emmett soon followed.

The three could feel their ties with the Cullen coven becoming weaker and weaker as time went by. Carlisle and Esme loved them all, but the constant high-school life had become tiring. The pair no longer wished to be treated as children when they were, in fact, married. Taking them in confidence, Jasper told them of Peter and the blond soldier's decision to leave the "family." Choosing to also leave the coven, the couple decided to go search out Isabella after news of her becoming part of the Volturi reached their ears.

o0o0o0o

"Why are you leaving?" Asked a fairly distraught pixie one Saturday night, sitting in the living room painting her toenails. The two were alone, hence the perfect time for a heart-to-heart.

"You know why Alice." The blond turned to leave the room, anything to avoid this discussion. Leaving Peter back in the 40's had been devastating, even though he had felt such a fate approaching. At the beginning Alice's constant happiness had filled up the void perfectly. Now it was just annoying, he knew what his own joy felt like, and hers only met him halfway.

"No I don't! We are mates Jasper! Mates!" Nail polish was spreading over the coffee table, abandoned by the standing Alice. Her emotions grated at him, effecting a tight jaw and closed fists.

"No darling, that's just what you've told ya'self. You gotta know ya man is out thar somewhere, don't spend ya time waiting for me."

Shaking with anger, Alice appeared in her ex-husband's path, reaching high up to place her hands on his shoulders with a vice-like grip.

"Don't think I didn't see what you did to those people Jasper, I saw everything. If you leave I'll tell Carlisle that you fell off the wagon, again!"

Removing Alice's hands from his shoulders, he gently held them in his, looking into her eyes with sincerity.

"Darling, thanks for all you've done for me." The soldier walked out, leaving Alice to crumple to the floor in despair. She knew the truth to his statements, but it still hurt like hell to admit it.

o0o0o0o

The plane was going at the speed of a tortoise in slow motion, of that Peter could testify. Filling the airplane's small space was the heady smell of pumping human blood; recycled air continually torturing with an unchanging rhythm. Swallowing down a mouthful of venom, the vampire balled his hands at his sides. Not eating for months hadn't been good for Peter's control. Just like an alcoholic it was necessary for him to rebuild his tolerance. Peace suddenly flowed over his frame, relaxing muscles as it went. Sending a grateful glance at Jasper, Peter leaned back and tried to focus on the conversation going on between the former Cullens.

"Do you really believe the Volturi will accept us into the guard?" Rosalie was asking.

"If Isabella still wants us, I have no doubt. Her abilities are quite strong, the kings will definitely know by now how valuable she is."

"Don't worry Rosie," Emmett kissed her cheek.

"It is not us I am really worried about. How long has it been since those two people were killed in that Italian hotel? You know sensitive Isabella can be."

The three fell silent, each brooding over Isabella's status. Silence reigned for the rest of the trip, not a word spoken until the four were walking the halls of Volterra castle. Two large guards had met them at the gate, leading the vampires to the throne room.

Watching with intense eyes as the four entered, Aro's face glowed underneath his usual impassive mask. Caius and Marcus both leant forward intently to view the proceedings. Flanking the kings were the witch twins, an astonished Isabella standing slightly behind Alec with deference.

"What is it that you seek?" Asked the middle king as he held out his hand to Jasper, the obvious group leader. The blond soldier stepped forward, Peter closely following.

Meanwhile, Isabella's mind was going in a million directions. Little bunnies were hopping up and down the trails of her brain as she sought to comprehend current events. There was Rosalie, who Isabella absolutely adored; and Emmett was by her side, trying to hold back a grin at seeing his Bells; her protector and confidant, Jasper, was arranging placement for the four in the Volturi, but who was this man standing beside him?

The brunet had broad shoulders, a handsome face with straight brows and straight lips, and a protective stance, his body twitching to protect Jasper from apparent dangers.

Peter. That was his name, Jasper had spoken about him before. There was no doubt, this was Jasper's brother-in-arms, the man who'd left him high and dry for a woman.

I hope he'll like me.

In the middle of psychoanalyzing whether or not the former Cullens looked angry, she realized someone was addressing her.

Master Marcus was looking at her expectantly, he must have seen her strong ties with the three, hopefully she hadn't missed anything important.

"Isabella, please lead the four to their new rooms. I am sure you all would love to catch up. They will be briefed tomorrow."

Adopting a look of a disguised terror Isabella sauntered out the door, attempting to seem confident but failing entirely. The silence with which the four followed was unnerving, Isabella's anxiety growing with every moment.

After they were gone the three kings looked at each other, Aro attempting to control his glee.

"Brother, what is it exactly that you saw?" Inquired Marcus, the most calm of the triad. Aro's face shone as he shared their luck.

"Jasper Whitlock and Peter Garcia could win any war, and would not begrudge us for asking it of them."

Stopping to mull over this information, Marcus stated, "Their bonds certainly are powerful, as long as Isabella is loyal to us the three former Cullens will be. And the two warriors are inseparable."

"Good," grinned Caius, "As soon as they are settled we will send them on their first mission. Seattle seems to experiencing an undue amount of animal attacks."

o0o0o0o

"Ouf," Emmett had enveloped Isabella in a bear hug as soon as she'd shown them the room that would belong to the pair. Peter was standing off to the side, observing the interactions between Isabella and her family.

"What were you thinking? Isabella, we love you, it does not matter what you did, not to us." Rosalie's eyes shone with passion as she said those words, obviously having waited a long time to do so.

"You can say whatever you want, Rose. But you weren't there. You didn't feel what I felt when I drained the life from their bodies. The guilt when I realized Edward was gone forever—I murdered my own boyfriend!"

"Isabella." Whispered Jasper, breaking her attention from Rosalie's rebuke, "Edward didn't die."

Hope uplifted the slump of the vampiress' shoulders, a gleam alighting her features.

"But, he was gone. I saw it happen—because of me."

Her soldier approached slowly, laying his hands on her waist and pulling her into an embrace.

"Darling, you didn't kill him. That annoying son of a—he's not dead."

"Not that you should feel bad about it anyway, Sweetie. In the vampire world he was perfectly deserving of his fate." The blonde beauty assured, biding her time for a hug.

Isabella stepped back from Jasper, looking over the three vampires, a wrinkle gathered between her brows.

"This isn't over but...did you—you just joined the Volturi. Why?"

Silence reigned for a moment, Rose and Emmett looking at Jasper to provide the explanation.

"Look Darling, we've been feelin' a bit overtrodden in the Cullen household for a while. When you—when you were changed, we finally realized how much we could experience if we lived our lives as adults, as true vampires. Nothing against Carlisle and Esme, but we aren't children, and shouldn't be treated as such."

Pausing to form her thoughts, Isabella nodded in agreement.

"Darling, our real question is, do you wanna stay with the Volturi?"

Before Isabella could answer, Emmett blurted, "You don't really want to kill yourself still...right Bells?"

Going silent and shy, Isabella shook her head furiously, whispering, "I like it here, and if, if you all were to stay, I'd have nothing else to wish for. Perhaps it is selfish, not wanting to die for all the horrid stuff I've done, but…"

"Please stop thinkin' that way, you haven't done anything bad, not for a vampire." Interrupted Jasper, his stance becoming protective and wrathful. "Do you know how many people I've downed in the last 150 years? It's the food chain of life. Isabella, we're not gonna make you drink from humans, but you can make your decision free from our judgement."

Not entirely convinced, the doe's eyes flickered back and forth as she took in the argument. Stepping to the side and giving Emmett and Rosalie their final hugs, Isabella grabbed Jasper's hand and pulled him out the door, Peter shadowing closely.

Her face closed to discussion, Isabella led the two to their rooms.

"Isabella." Jasper's face was softened as he tucked a lock of her behind her ear, embracing her tightly.

"You never have to worry about losing my love," whispered the soldier. Isabella smiled lightly in response, but slumped her shoulders and wandered away to her own room, deep in thought.

"Eso fue sentimental." Smirked the brunet in the shadows.

"Muchacho, sabías que sería." Grinned his brother in return.


	11. In Which Isabella and Rose Have the Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! How goes it? So, this is a little later than it should be. I suffered from a rather large amount of writer's block when writing this, without sufficient motivation to get past it. I have a question for the readers, what are your impressions of Jasper and Peter? I'm finding it really difficult to write them the way I want. They should be quite mature and intelligent, but as a 17 year old girl with little real-life experience, it takes a lot of wracking of the brain to try and form the characters well. Also, in this chapter Rose and Isa are gonna talk about sex, it kinda makes me squirm, because this story is more about action and emotional breakdowns than that kinda stuff, but it needed to happen for the development of Isabella's character. She needs to become more of an adult, and this is one step towards that.
> 
> Whilst working through my writers block, I went through chapter 1-7 and edited like it's nobody's business. I added at least 5,000 words be filling that stuff in. So if you care you can check that out.
> 
> Many thanks to Suziq968, Traceybuie, Matthias L. Stormcrow, and Cacau Black for reviewing. Virtual hugs to you all! Want more of this story? Review with thoughts and improvements and I'll send you a virtual hug. Squee! Merry almost Christmas everybody!
> 
> -(Woosh!) Nellie out!

"In Which Isa and Rose Have The Talk"

Waves of sound echoed off the stone walls of the training room, attesting to the meeting of rock-hard bodies in battle. A blond man, muscular and tall, dove for the feet of the beautiful brunette he was fighting. He continued to slide along the shiny, waxed floors as the woman went transparent, appearing across the room with a look of dogged tenacity upon her face. Standing up, he kicked it into high gear. Shoulders back and arms spread wide, his stance becoming more grounded, working to get his teeth or hands around her neck.

This went on for quite some time, neither being able to acquire the upper hand in an unending battle. The blond was steadily becoming more frustrated with this outcome, snarling and somehow moving faster each time his attack was deflected. But Isabella—while not as skilled in fighting—had an ability that upped her chances, more so in the fact that it also blocked his.

Sobre, bright-red eyes glowed through the darkness of a corner, like lanterns in their steadiness—but blazing with a fire much more intense. Not a strike or twitch between the two was missed as the orbs flickered back and forth, body absolutely still, a tensed wire easily snapped at the hint of danger.

Isabella was slowly wearing down, her invisibility wavering each time it was in use, the effect growing shorter and shorter. Jasper's attacks got closer and closer to the target point, becoming quieter as his concentration grew—along with a cat-ate-the-canary grin.

Her stance weaker and weaker by the minute, the battle was soon finished. Isabella groaned in frustration as Jasper's hands circled her neck.

Each time she was defeated it just angered her more. The newborn frequently asked Alec and Demetri for extra training sessions. She was determined to improve, to conquer, and willing to do anything to achieve such a feat. A wrathful glint sparkled in her eyes.

"We'll get ya up to snuff in no time, darling." Giving her a kiss on the cheek, Jasper backed away and turned to Peter, the observer of the battle.

"You're just getting soft, mi hermano." The spectator turned to Isabella. "Your form is atrocious, if you ever had one. Your attention is always half-diverted; I can see it in your eyes. Which, by the way, are broadcasting your every move. There are many other small faults in your fighting style to be further discussed, but your biggest problem is over-reliance on your ability."

Peter grinned, watching her body language stiffen as he bluntly listed her faults. Isabella was very beautiful—all vampires were—but the innocence and guilt that stained her figure made him long to hold a magnifying glass over her as if she was ant, laughing at a helpless creature's pain.

But he couldn't do that, not to Jasper's little charge. He shook himself from his thoughts.

Don't go too far.

Meanwhile, Isabella—still a newborn—was struggling to keep her anger to drawn brows and clenched hands. She had been working her butt off, there was nothing she could be doing differently. Felix had never been this harsh, giving her one thing to work on at a time, aware of the bipolar emotions of a newborn. He had been especially careful due to her precious status. And even though Isabella had greater control than most, she was quick to anger—quick to disappear for days at a time if provoked.

"Peter." Said Jasper, eyes darkened in silent threat.

"Jasper. Don't lie, you saw it too."

Mulling over the best response, the blond man sent Peter a wave of anger, sadness, and guilt, the taste souring Peter's mouth. He could tell from Jasper's expression that it belonged to the barely controlled newborn. The blond soldier, satisfied with Peter's sickened expression turned to Isabella, whispering instructions as he adjusted the placement of her arms and feet.

"Your whole body should move when you strike…"

Casually exiting through the stone, arch-like door, Peter was aware that piercing, orange eyes following his every step.

The halls were empty and silent, aside from the strong presence that Peter possessed. He didn't really know where he was going, aside from keeping away from the monarchs' wing. While he hated to admit it, Jasper's gentleness with Isabella made him jealous. He had never seen the Southern Major act with such a mild tone toward anyone before, not even Alice.

And while he'd never admit it, Isabella had an attracting quality that drove him Bedlam crazy. She was the most beautiful woman Peter had ever laid eyes on. Ever. Not even Charlotte had rivaled what he was currently feeling. Isabella made him feel awkward in his own skin, provoking a malicious reaction worthy of a twelve-year-old boy. Ironically, his discontent only grew, increased with each raise of the brunette's hate.

o0o0o0o

Rosalie was Isabella's closest female friend, this was fact. Because of the absence of Esme and Alice, the pair's relationship had grown. Rose was quick becoming Isabella's sole confidant. The blonde spent quality time with her husband, trained physically with the guard, and the remainder was spent with Isabella.

"What does sex feel like?" Asked Isabella one evening, the pair were lounging on Isabella's bed, flipping through car magazines (okay really just Rosalie).

Usually nonplussed by any dirty situation, Rose's face tightened a bit, turning her body toward Isabella in full attention.

"Why are you asking?"

Silence reigned, aside from the slide of fabric between Isabella's fingers as she intently focused on her fingers' actions, picking at the blanket's lint.

"Well, I just, wanted to know. Of course, I know the mechanics of the situation, but why is it such a big deal?" The brunette avoided eye-contact like the plague, continuing to pick at the blanket.

Moving to a full sitting position, Rose grabbed Isabella's hands in hers, a pinched, sombre look poisoning her facial expression.

"Look sweetie, virginity is the biggest thing you can take from a person. You know about the rape, there is no way to explain the physical and emotional pain I experienced. I'm thankful for the fading of my human memories, but I'll never truly be able to forget it."

Empathetic and a bit mentally assaulted from Rosalie's story, Isabella opened her mouth, then closed it, once, twice, three times.

"But what about consensual stuff, how much does the partner matter?"

"Sweetie! It makes all the world of difference! When you finally meet the one, you'll greatly regret if you were to have been with someone before him. I-I will not try to influence your decision, you are your own person. But, this is something you cannot ever get back, once you meet your mate, it will be for life, forever. Would you really want to give away something so important when you know in the end it will be something only the two of you will want to share?"

Isabella suddenly wrapped her arms around Rosalie, sticking her face into the other girl's neck.

"Thank you," said a muffled voice, "No one's ever spoken to me about intercourse before."

Raising her hands slowly to return Isabella's hug, Rosalie's face softened.

"Darling, I love you too."

o0o0o0o

Hazy, thick air weighed down black cloaks as the Volturi approached, faces firm and backs ramrod-straight, a powerful picture.

Looking grey and sombre—like its surroundings—the large warehouse had a dreary, non-threatening air about it; nevertheless, this was a hoax. Inside the building would be at least a baker's dozen of bright-eyed newborns, prone to attack with the rage that so easily controlled them. Peter and Jasper had faced such a fate before, surviving with scars to show for it. And Demetri's presence certainly made her feel safer, but Isabella had never fought an actual newborn before. If she were still human, her hands would've been shaking, heartbeat racing, steps uncertain.

But she wasn't, and having been trained by the best, Isabella would show no fear.

You're gonna die.

Taunted the voice, causing the girl's jaw to momentarily clench.

Isabella sure didn't feel as ready as the kings had seemed. They had been powerful and ordering as if it was no big deal, as if they had no chance of death. And maybe the group didn't, but the brunette didn't have all the information that the masters kept so cleverly up their sleeves. It was frustrating and scary. Sometimes she really wished Jasper's gift worked against her shield.

A hand squeezed her shoulder, hard, causing the fearful girl to jump, wide eyes turning to her assailant.

"Get your head in the game." Mocked the voice of Peter, with the berating, red eyes so often focused on the beautiful brunette. Jasper and Demetri observed the interaction silently, sharing a glance at the pair's tension. The journey had been long for all of them, an airplane ride where time just seemed to drag. Peter would only talk with the Jasper, Isabella also, making for a collection of awkward three-way conversations. The strain only grew between the two, an explosion waiting to happen.

The heavy front door creaked open, a handsome brunet vampire appeared at the building's entrance. "How may I help you?" Their presence seemed to unsettle him greatly. Radiating power, there was no doubt to the intimidating impression they made, the teenager's twitching hands and vibrant-red eyes attesting to his youth and mental state.

Demetri stepped forward, "On behalf of the Volturi, we will be destroying the newborn army located on the premises."

A mocking twinkling in his eye that didn't quite match the awkward body language, the boy sneered, "Whatever this Volturi is, it won't be allowed here. Leave, or we'll destroy you."

"Boy, the Volturi is the vampire government. Your creator was remiss in not informing you of this. They will be executed for such actions. If you choose to step aside, you'll be spared."

A moment of weakness showed on the boy's face, before hardening into a stubborn mask.

"Leave!"

Peter and Jasper quickly tag-teamed, in four seconds flat a fire was crackling merrily, containing the young guard's body parts.

Hisses and growls could be heard from outside, these newborns were ready for a fight. Demetri followed Peter and Jasper inside, Isabella tagging along with shifty body language, propounding the uneasiness she felt.

The pigsty that these "people" lived in was astonishing, they had obviously only been considered weapons by their creator. With every breath dust clouded into the vampires' lungs, the smell of dried blood, fear and urine heavy in the air. There was over twenty newborns inside, vibrant-coloured eyes glowing through the darkness. Clothing hung off their bodies in tatters, some wearing nothing at all, flawless, pale bodies exposed to all eyes. Human bodies were strewn along the floor, most in unnatural positions belonging to their last moments. All they had owned, whether blood, wealth, or dignity had been viciously yanked away without mercy. Somehow, the orphans controlled themselves long enough for Demetri to make a small speech.

"As you are breaking Volturi laws, you will be destroyed, but if you choose to surrender, we will consider sparing your lives."

All faces but one instantly hardened into rage, the majority unable to contain themselves any longer, springing all at once for the cloaked imposters. The furious sounds of battle echoed against the cement walls of the warehouse, Isabella sinking into oblivion as her fear reached its breaking point. Nobody noticed the fourth of the Volturi guard, her eyes springing from one fight to another, watching the effortless work of her three companions.

Jasper and Peter's teamwork was like a dance, easily beheading numerous attackers. The two effortlessly predicted the other's movement, arriving exactly where the other needed him. Their knowledge of newborn behavior wasn't null either, knowing how the new vampires would act before the attacker had even reached a decision.

Isabella's eyes finally settled on one of the only two opposing vampires not engaged in the battle. The alluring redhead was standing a floor up, leaning over the balcony with watchful eyes, searching for someone in the crowd. Not for a person she cared about, the clinical and emotionless air easily showing this fact. While more self-possessed than the vampires dying one story down, she had a crazy look about her. Untamed, vibrant-red hair going in all directions, eyes full of grief that could easily become uncontrolled, vengeful rage. This look perfectly fit with the title "Wild Creature."

A faint memory passed through Isabella's mind—fear of death, mirrors reflecting dozens of vicious vampires. Tall, blond, and predatory, her end slowly approaching with sauntering steps, a camcorder aimed at her, a taunting voice. Insanity, was there ever not this pain?

Who's screaming?

Oh, that's me.

Victoria. Isabella had yet to see her through vampire eyes, until now. How could she have been so stupid? Believing James' burning ended all of his coven's opposition.

Before the girl even had time to think she had sprung up to Victoria's level, intent on closure from the haunting memories.

Most vampires would've been dead within a millisecond; however, Victoria wasn't your average vampire. Her rage heightened as the creature dodged every murder attempt, growing more confident with each blocked attack.

"And who might this be? Is this Edward's little pet?" A flawless smile grew at her mouth's corners, her mind's confidence easily improving her stance as she began to push Isabella back. Strike for the neck, blocked, strike for the arm, blocked.

Snarling, Isabella lunged to sink her teeth into Victoria's neck, only to be stopped by a dainty-looking hand around her throat.

Oh crap.


	12. In Which Peter Gets Scolded

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! What's up? As this story is now at 127 followers, I don't doubt you can hear my squees, from wherever you are in the world:) Thank you all for the support! Reviews are most welcome, suggestions and corrections appreciated. I am trying to do my best with this story, and if you think something could improve it, or have an idea for a future plot line, I would so love to see that. It would most definitely be taken into consideration.
> 
> I hope you don't feel like Isabella is too whiny. The voice inside her head is one of things that (just like in real life) doesn't disappear overnight, so it will be quite a while before she is completely convinced of her worth (and maybe never to a full extent).
> 
> Thank you Suziq968, Traceybuie, and Cacau Black for your reviews! Virtual hugs and squees sent just for you!

"In Which Peter Gets Scolded"

A smile, tugging at the corner of the mouth but leaving the eyes lifeless. Dilated pupils, intent on their prey. This prey struggled in vain, the hand round its throat keeping it contained. Red hair, every which way, untamed just like this woman's inner beast—this was the last thing Isabella saw before closing her eyes in defeat. She could feel her head detaching painfully from her body, cracks appearing under the pressure. Was this really how she was going to die? Killed by the vengeful mate of James?

Memories flashed before her eyes, brought to mind by the racing thoughts of death. Beautiful Edward, her first boyfriend; kind Cullens, her first family; perving Lorenzo, her first kill. Everything she'd experienced since the change, what had pained, what had brought happiness.

Please no, please no.

Would her life really end like this? As unsatisfying guilty mess? As a girl who had murdered, almost been murdered herself (twice), yet never fallen in love?

But then it became calm, the hand of death had disappeared.

The air was still, the silence suspicious, the pain strangely absent.

Isabella's feet were on the ground again, firmly planted as she brought the world back into sight. Pale, flawless body parts were being thrown into a raging fire; red eyes stared at her from the head of Victoria, full of anger and grief as the assassinating vampire's skin and insides were licked of life. She would never get the revenge so deeply desired. Hair matching the flames disappeared in seconds. Formerly the body of a functioning being—turned to ashes, to dust.

Breathing heavily, Isabella put her hand up to her throat, feeling the skin knit back together, relief easing her tightened stance.

Victoria was dead.

A man stood beside the fire, feeding the flames with the remaining skin and muscle, concentrated on his task.

"Peter," he turned his head toward her, "Thank you."

Fury lit his eyes, hands drew into fists.

"Tu eres una idiota! You," he stopped choking on his words, "You could have been killed."

Why did he save me if he hates me so much?

Turning away from the surprised young woman, Peter jumped down to the first floor, helping Jasper finish off a final newborn.

Said blond soldier would be watching Isabella with careful eyes the entire trip. Because of Isabella's ability, it took a lot of attention to understand which emotions she was experiencing, and whether she was liable to go off the deep end again. The beautiful, young woman had done it more than once before, and Jasper was nothing if not attentive towards the few people he loved. His single-minded gaze was often focused on Isabella, a fact Peter noticed and attempted not to become jealous over. Isabella loved Jasper, and spent a lot of her time with him (preferably without Peter around).

Actually, all of Peter's behavior seemed counterintuitive. He berated when Isabella did well, and laughed when she did wrong. And while this seemed to be the perfect behavior of a fiend, he also took an incredible amount of time—more than necessary—to help her with her battle skills. There was the possibility that he was attracted to her, but of that Isabella was doubtful. The only thing that made her really special was the abilities so highly prized by the Volturi.

Isabella snapped her attention back to the matter at hand, looking around the filthy warehouse until her eyes flickered across the only newborn still alive.

Rocking in a corner, alone and hopeless, a girl of around fourteen prayed to every god of which she knew. Crystal-clear memories flashed through her mind, the gluttony, the blood, the sex. Victoria's hard, merciless expression, the red hair spread out around her head like fire. There had been no love, no respect, they were lust-full machines to be controlled by their desires. Riley had beat and bitten, had used her. Motivations had been dark, always, with no mercy. That was the only reason the Bree had been kept around, because she could see intentions. Fear jumped in her chest at every snarl, every growl, every rip of skin from bone.

Please save me, please take me back to the sunshine, back to normality, to parents and a warm house.

The sounds had stopped now, only near-silent footsteps remained. These belonged to the four people—the cloaked ones. She didn't dare look up, any moment could mean death. Rocking faster, a sob almost broke from her throat.

Sunshine.

Her muscles began to relax, the rocking slowing, a calm feeling spread through her bones, her eyelids fluttering at this alien feeling of lethargy.

Darkness clouded in.

Warmth.

O0o0o0o0o

Sounds echoed from the battle room, heard more clearly with each step Alec took. There were two men inside, the grace with which the fought seeming closer to a dance than a fight. If Alec had not known before, he would've been positive that these two were telepaths. They easily saw and disrupted any attack the other planned.

A very subtle change took over the body language of these fighters as Alec entered, any fun had with the battle—a grin, a feint, a bit of trash talk—disappeared completely.

"Mr. Garcia, would you be so kind as to grace me with your presence."

The two had stopped all movement, Jasper and Peter exchanged a glance.

Knowing the Volturi hierarchy, Peter gestured at the entrance, squeezing his brother's shoulder as he exited.

Walking slightly behind Alec in deference, the Southern soldier's mind raced, coming up with several viable hypotheses for why he'd been pulled aside.

Was he to be lectured? Praised? Commanded? Peter cursed himself, lately his attention had been too focused on Isabella. He had still maintained reasonable awareness of the behavior of the Volturi guard, but he had obviously missed something important.

Protect her. Protect your m—

After leading him down several hallways of varying sizes and importance, Alec finally shut Peter and himself in a small room piled floor-to-ceiling with papers and books, arranged in alphabetical order along the many bookshelves. The more silent half of the witch twins had turned toward Peter, a sombre face and steady eyes fully focused on the soldier. Peter straightened his own back, wiping off his emotions like a school slate.

"Isabella is very beautiful." Said Alec, one eyebrow raised.

Frowning in concentration, Peter studied his kidnapper's face for hopes of a hint.

"That is true, sir."

Alec smiled at this comment, the gesture not quite reaching his eyes.

"There is a fact I do not think you understand. She is under my protection, which means I will no longer tolerate your spiteful actions towards her. Just because she is beautiful and intelligent does not allow you leeway to treat her like a mere human."

Peter's face and body remained still, well trained from years of war and decades of a wife.

"I am sorry that I have offended you, sir."

"You are lying. But I do not matter in this situation—although you will treat me with respect—Isabella is a very important member of the Volturi. Of this I am sure you are well aware." Stepping forward, Alec's eyes began to blaze, he grew to a towering size, his stance confident and immovable. "If you continue in this behavior, you will be executed. And you can be absolutely certain that I am not acting without the Masters' approval."

Nodding with a slightly tightened jaw, Peter grunted a "Yes sir."

"You may leave; however, your behavior must change."

Whilst Peter's escape walk seemed confident and graceful as always, on the inside he was stomping like a six-year-old.

Arriving back at the training area, Peter grimaced in Jasper's direction, trying to calm himself. The intense eyes of the blond took this all in and within seconds approached the boy.

"He told ya to mend your behavior toward Isabella."

"Yes."

"Alec isn't the only one that's been disapproving."

Suddenly whipping his head over to Jasper, Peter gestured for him to go on.

"I was gonna threatin ya soon if it didn't stop."

Eyes slightly wide, Peter was suddenly attacked by a no-mercy Jasper, who was waiting for an open moment.

"I'll treat her better, promise." Whispered the brunet under his breath.

Nodding in approval, Jasper moved in for a strike against Peter's right side.

o0o0o0o0o

"The conditions were terrible: blazing heat each day, our ears in a continual state of deafness from the gunfire, and why were we in this constant state of battle and fear? We didn't even know what we was fighting for."

Telling a first-hand account of the war between the North and South, Jasper formed his words carefully, an enchanting quality enhancing each word he spoke. There is just some people like that, with the gift. Similar to the character of Sara Crewe, his stories spun and wove, giving you a moving picture inside your mind. You would never forget the tales he'd told, even if you had such a flawed memory as did the seven billions humans roaming the earth.

Isabella and Bree sat at the blond soldier's feet, an enraptured expression on their faces, attention completely devoted to his every utterance. Peter watched his crush from the shadows, a miserable look on his face.

Making a sudden decision, he picked himself up and went to sit beside his brother. Isabella's eyes never left Jasper the entire time, though she was aware of Peter's every move. Slowly, Peter began to interject little pieces of information to the story, a differing perspective. And surprisingly, the magic wasn't lost, the history didn't break, and, most importantly—

Isabella didn't kill Peter Garcia.

O0o0o0o0o

Six men and women—the Volturi kings and queens—sat around a large wooden table, discussing important matters. The personal library in which they sat was large and old, looking slightly incongruent with the youthful appearances of the ancients. Maps and globes of all different eras were spread around the room, along with many art masterpieces and old manuscripts.

"Isabella seems to shaping up well." Didyme said with a smile. She liked Isabella, the girl was a breath of fresh air, her abilities and behavior new and exciting.

"Of course, that is aside from that small Victoria incident." Smirked Caius.

The beautiful vampire of several millennia crossed her arms and pouted.

"Do not be a know-it-all, Caius. Or must I remind you of that time with the lycanthropes? They were two seconds away from..."

"Must we bring up the past?" She didn't show any signs of mercy, so he whispered an apology under his breath, conceding to her point with a small, painful nod. Athenodora smirked, kissing her husband on the cheek and turning to Marcus.

"Are you of the same opinion?"

"Partly," he leaned his head on his hands, "We cannot actually get inside her mind, so I would like not to disregard anything out of pride."

Aro grimaced at this point. Several hundred years ago the six had added a new member to the guard. After a two thousand years of easy riding, they had thought it easy to garner his respect.

They had been wrong.

Aro and others had grown negligent, not checking the man's thoughts enough. A rebellion had started, only quelled by Jane and Demetri's early arrival from an assignment. The Volturi monarchy had been close to an overthrow; the wake-up-call being loud and clear. From then on everyone was commanded to be vigilant at all times. You never knew when an attack could occur, where it could happen, or who might start it.

"Perhaps you are right, she could only be getting better at acting." Said the mind reader. He looked to Sulpicia and Didyme in askance. The two were generally the most empathetic and perceptive. While the public face of the Volturi were the three kings, the men weren't sexist like the times they'd been born into. Their wives were often the most inventive and helpful, providing useful information missed by the masters.

"Well I firmly believe she no longer wants to kill herself." said Sulpicia, Didyme nodding in agreement.

"Yes, she now has bonds and reassurance. The former Cullens certainly improved our chances at breaking through to her."

"But the real problem is how strong her bond to the Volturi is, how much she respects us and what we stand for. Now I know Alec had been working with her; however, the bigger the tie, the harder it is to break."

Marcus eyes glazed over in thought, tapping his fingers along his leg. Finally forming his intelligence, he said, "What you are really saying is that I should pay more attention to her."

"Something of that nature, yes. Perhaps observe at one of Alec's tutoring sessions now and then."

Marcus grimaced. It had been quite a while since he'd done this sort of work. The likes of which he'd never enjoyed. He preferred to leave the social stuff to Aro.

Caius and Aro leaned back in their chairs, amused and thankful the heat was taken off of themselves.

"For the good of all of us. Please." Athendora fluttered her eyelashes at her husband. Said husband huffed and puffed, finally conceding to his wife's (still got it) charm.


	13. In Which Emmett and Isabella have a Tickle War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SQUEE! Loving this story so much. This is honestly one of my top two chapters so far, the other being chapter 2 (I absolutely loved writing possessive and idiotic Edward!). Anyway I hope you all enjoy and any feedback you can provide is well appreciated.
> 
> Thank you Matthias L. Stormcrow, Girlloveshugs, suziq968, traceybuie, and Slkupfer87 (is your last name Kupfer? That means copper in German. Random trivia facts for you:), and Cacau Black for reviewing.
> 
> Aw, it was so depressing reading traceybuie's review, that's so not how I wanted the Volturi to be perceived. See, they are controlling (oh yes) and a little bit evil, but their goals also keep humans from breaking out into vampire hunting panic and they do provide a safe coven for those who need it. Yea so, I tried to round them out a bit more in this chapter, but sometimes characters just end up being written counter to my wants and I just gotta run with it:)
> 
> Hey Suziq968! I absolutely adore and agree with your rants. They are hilarious and truthful. Honestly I wanted to write Peter differently, but I have this one guy in my life who acts just like Peter (being a complete…). Anyways, so the Peter of this story just completely refused to listen to me (just like the misogynistic jerk who endangers my life and others with his stupid driving). And he ended up turning out this way. (I'll get him under control soon, don't you worry. Unlike real life, I can actually have an opinion when it comes to these men)
> 
> I would apologize for my rants, but I don't want to.
> 
> Alice-Wow, look at the sky, it's going to be so pretty in a couple of hours.
> 
> Nellie-Um…
> 
> Alice-Yup, so awesome, just like when readers review.
> 
> Nellie-But why would they review?
> 
> Alice-Because I'm adorable? And psychic?
> 
> Nellie-Yea and I don't own Twilight.
> 
> Alice-But you don't.
> 
> Nellie-(Stomps foot) Don't tell me what to do.
> 
> Alice and Nellie have staring contest.
> 
> Nellie-Fine whatever! Just because you're right doesn't mean I have to be happy about it.

"In Which Emmett and Isa Have a Tickle War"

"They seem to finally be getting along." Aro said to Marcus, the three kings hidden in the shadows. Peter and Isabella were sparring, a restriction placed in her ability for the sake of improvement. While not as in sync as the two Southern soldiers, they moved reasonably well around each other, especially considering the tension that strained behind each glance.

The air was thick it with it, the wires that connected the two, ready to electrify and ignite if they got too close, got too comfortable.

"And I imagine they will be getting along much better in the coming months." Aro and Caius's eyes grew suspicious, tracing Marcus' every feature for a clue.

"They are mates?" Questioned Caius slowly, hands slowly tightening into fists.

"Yes." Marcus turned to his brothers. "Why is it that you are angry?"

"Why is it that—?" Aro threw up in his hands in hopelessness, "You cannot possibly be misunderstanding this."

"That it is not right to withhold information from your brothers because it could lead to them doing something without full knowledge of the situation—which you have? Oh yes, I can see how that could be a factor."

Aro's face drained, looking a little ashamed. Caius looked between the two, finally setting his wrath on Aro.

"Have you been keeping things from us?"

"Well—they were not really that important, I do not really understand why…"

His brothers glared him down.

"Just wait until Sulpicia hears about this," Caius said, waving his finger ominously. "There is a reason we use the word team." He began striding away toward the wives' quarters, smirking at Aro's distress.

Both men had known about Aro's secrecy beforehand, for a long time really. It was one of those things that needed to be constantly regulated. Aro could get a bit greedy for knowledge in certain situations. It was his fatal flaw; however, he was useful and essential to the Volturi coven, just like all of the other kings and queens were. Without all six, peace would not be held, potential usurpers not stopped. This was understood by all the monarchs, and that was why they had yet to overthrow one another.

The mind reader ran after Caius, shouting for him to stop and consider the consequences. Marcus' face broke into a smile, sometime one's own family was the best comic relief.

O0o0o0o0o

Rosalie and Jasper watched with amused eyes as Emmett and Isabella engaged in a wrestling match. Whenever the two were in no danger of being observed they acted like children.

It was hilarious.

Some say that laughter is the best medicine, and Jasper felt the truth of this statement as Isabella's emotions stabilized with the more time she spent in Emmett's presence. She felt safe with him, with her family. Under the shelter of the Volturi she was surrounded by love and the gaining of knowledge. Two of her favorite things.

The two's relationship didn't go unobserved. The bear-like man's intense protectiveness was greatly appreciated by the Volturi. The leaders acknowledged the importance of trusting your guard to keep you safe.

Isabella was under careful protection and tutelage at all times, Alec, Jasper, and Emmett assuring her safety. And unlike most guarded treasures, she had yet to develop cabin fever.

Perhaps it was because of her childhood abuse, but she sucked up love and affection like a sponge. And while she had matured considerably in her behavior recently, this was a feature of her personality unlikely to change.

It was easy for the kings and queens to see the worth of this. If the people Isabella loved were protected, she'd never want to leave. And she would never want to leave.

They would make sure of that.

"Stop, it stop it." She giggled playfully, as Emmett's hands tickled at her ribs.

"Not 'til you say uncle!"

Isabella remained silent, shaking as she was ready to burst into hysterical laughter as the tickling increased.

"Fine! Fine you win."

Emmett sat back onto the carpeted floor, pleased with his victory. Catching him unaware, she threw herself on him, pinning her brother to ground with threats of wet willies.

Rosalie threw a glance at Jasper at this, shrugging at him before going to help Isabella.

"Hold him down! He is especially ticklish behind his knees." She smirked at her husband's betrayed expression, going straight for the faulty spot.

"Betrayal! Betrayal." He screamed, the family bursting into giggles.

This is what love feels like.

o0o0o0o0o

"Alright, so remember to keep your knees bent and hands protecting your face at all times. Your weakest area is always going to be your neck…"

It was nice, Bree thought, to have a real teacher. Peter was smart, and while he didn't actually care about her, he wasn't going to do her any harm.

When you'd lived the type of life Bree had, that was the thing you cared about the most.

Food, and a safe place to stay, and the Volturi had both of those things. They were properly training her in the necessary areas, feeding and protecting her, and that was all she could ask for really. It wasn't much to some people, but to Bree Tanner it meant the world. Those two things completely secured her loyalty to the Volturi, no outside influence warranted.

It wasn't that the Volturi were a charity, taking every lowly vampire in. There were always carefully planned out reasons. And while not everyone can be bought, everyone has a price. Simply a safe coven was reason enough for most, the chance at meeting your mate what others desired. And if you were important enough, the kings made sure there was very little that could induce you to leave.

Rosalie and Jasper flourished in the Volturi environment, easily taking leadership positions at which they excelled. Emmett was more of a chameleon, blending in to whatever place his wife wanted to stay in. Such things just didn't matter to him. Rose and Isabella were his only firm ties, everything else temporary if needed.

Isabella internally huffed at the sight of Peter and Bree. She wasn't jealous, of course not! She...just wanted to be as skilled as he was, yup that was why.

Was he trying to get at her? Or did he just not realize that their lesson should have started 45 minutes ago? Honestly, this was frustrating and plain disrespectful. Yes Bree was important, but so was Isabella, and the older vampire knew she was regarded very highly by the Volturi.

Maybe she would wait a couple of minutes more...maybe then he would realize her presence. It would very awkward and assuming for her to break the training session up. Isabella was aware of her importance, but that certainly didn't mean she wanted to use it against people, crushing them down to "their level."

Trying to stop her foot from tapping, fifteen minutes passed before she tried to get up the nerve again.

"Peter." Alec had somehow arrived at the perfect time, giving said soldier a nasty look before exiting once again.

"Okay, Bree. Remember to work on what I told you." And finally, the thirteen year old was dismissed, Isabella remaining still and fuming in the corner. Peter's eyes met hers, gleefully observing her irritation.

"Are you gonna sit there sulking forever, or are we going to get started?"

Attempting to pull herself together with no luck, she stomped over to her teacher, just slightly (okay a lot) pissed off.

"Yea, like you can lecture me about the time it takes to walk across a room when I've just waited an hour for you."

"It wasn't that long, I sincerely apologize for the disrespect, your highness."

Stomping further towards him, she said, "What is with you? Why must you always be hot and cold with me? Seriously, can we just agree to be civil and stop it at that?"

His eyes glittered at her response, "And why would I agree to that? You look so delicious when you're fired up."

"Is this some sort of game to you? Flirting with the girl nobody wants?"

"You don't honestly believe that, do you?" A patronizing smirk uplifted the corner of his mouth. "You're gorgeous." He breathed, stroking her cheek with his hand. Isabella detected sarcasm that wasn't reality, huffing out further attacks.

"Why do you always treat me like an idiot? Can people not have differences of opinion without stomping on each other, or is it just because I'm a woman?" Fury lit her eyes as she pulled out the trump card; internally cursed herself for the lack of political know-how.

"Really?" He stepped forward, looming over her with pride. "Maybe I treat you like an idiot because you are one, ever think of that?" Peter stopped, not yet finished, "My beautiful Isabella, I would never think that you being a woman was not an advantage in your favour."

"Hmph," crossing her arms in petulance, unbelieving of his advances, "In what world does a man with 200 years of knowledge get to stomp on a 19 year old for having none? Because that's very intelligent, you sexist pig."

Peter's smirk wavered, pushing her against the wall in retaliation. He raised both of his arms, placing them beside her head just like Edward had once done. The connection her brain made by this act only brought her feelings to an all-time high, hate bubbling in her stomach as he pushed her around like a rag doll. But maybe that wasn't entirely true, she burned with anger, yes, but there was something else in the pit of her stomach, something else that tried to control her.

"So this is how you show you're right, eh? Throw the girl against a wall? Show off your muscles like some stupid fourteen-year-old boy? Ha!" She threw the laugh in his face, enjoying the souring of his expression.

"Your deflecting." The realization came to him, alighting his face with joy.

"What...what do you mean?" The hands that had been raised against his chest to throw him off they had stopped, resting there uncertainty.

"I make you uncomfortable, and so do—So you're trying to steer the conversation by pushing my buttons." Peter leaned in further, watching her eyes dilate as his scent got closer. "Isa."

She began to shake, with which emotion she had no idea, never before had she felt like this. Perhaps Peter had her trapped, but honestly, she had let him. Isabella's ability could get her out at any situation, but what she was experiencing was too different, too...precious.

"Peter." Their eyes gazed into each other's, an electricity lighting their bodies. Lips drew closer, slowly, savouring each moment. She shut her eyes, humming lightly as their mouths almost met, his arms sliding down to her waist, hers creeping up to circle his neck. Desire lit and burned her body, a flushed look somehow appearing over her perfect, ivory skin.

Footsteps reached hearing range, the two jumping apart. Peter and Isabella looked at each other, regret and lasting lust in their eyes, the electricity now a miserable reminder of something unfinished.

The spell had been broken, the magic snapped though the effects lasted for an annoyingly long time. Hooded eyes and half-aroused bodies, with no release from the sexual tension so long born.

It was all Felix's fault. He strode between the two like a peacock showing off his feathers. He was determined to prove his worth to the masters, and Isabella was the surest way to accomplish such a feat. Ironically, the strong, passionate vampire was too busy trying to tempt Isabella to notice the chemistry that bubbled and that toiled between Peter and herself, severing any chance at earning her friendship or her loyalty as he intruded on a moment.


	14. In Which Felix Loses a Limb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello my awesome friends! You are all great! Thank you for all the beautiful comments I got to last chapter!
> 
> Traceybuie-Totally wasn't your fault, I wrote them different then I had intended.
> 
> Suziq968-Another of your rants, absolutely adore your comments. They make my day so much better. Thanks for noticing that Usurper word spelling crap. Honestly, my brain did this weird thing that because I'd only read it I've been saying it in my head as Ur-ser-per. Dang flabbit with those stupid literary words.
> 
> LoveCastielAngeEtKlausHybride-Merci beaucoup pour vos commentaires! J'ai beaucoup apprécié un long commentaire. Et en français aussi? Bah oui! Français est une langue que j'aime tres bien. J'espère les commentaires de l'avenir son aussi si sympa:)
> 
> Thank you Cacau Black and Lrl272 for your time and support with this story! Virtual Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte für alle!

"In Which Felix Loses a Limb"

Alright I'll come out and say it.

Sometimes Isabella got lonely.

While she was improving her skills each day, the Volturi still didn't want to send her out on missions. Maybe this was because they wanted her protecting home base, maybe because of the time Victoria had almost killed her. There was a third option of course, but it wasn't one she wanted to consider—perhaps she just wasn't ready.

And it was solitary, because the amount of missions and "check ups" per year wasn't something to scoff at. Emmett and Rose usually got to stay, but they were a couple, and wanted to spend some of their time alone.

Jasper, her protector and confidant, was frequently sent on missions along with Peter. The two were capable, traceless, and feared, a perfect combination for their "profession."

Lately especially, Isabella had been avoiding Jasper, mostly because the blond and Peter were usually a package deal. The almost kiss she had shared with her—with Peter made her uncomfortable. It was obvious he didn't care a lick for her, maybe he was a little attracted, but that had to be all.

Vividly remembering her talk with Rosalie, Isabella was determined to keep her distance (in that way), from all men until she found the one. The man to be her mate for all time, the man she was meant for.

Ugh. You're such a clichéd chick flick sometimes.

Sometimes the jealousy hit, when she saw the happy(ish) couples of the monarchy, or when Rose and Emmett were being all lovey dovey. Then, like a baseball smashing effortlessly through a glass window, a ball of steel wool gathered in her stomach, raking at her metaphorical insides. She remembered the beginning of her relationship with Edward, how he had made her feel loved, feel protected. The emotions she had never before experienced but wanted so much.

And sometimes she doubted. Sometimes she thought, maybe if I'd just given our relationship another chance. He wouldn't have been almost killed, she wouldn't have run off to Italy and become a murderess.

Stop with the perhaps, the maybe, the what if.

You know it was all your own fault.

There she sat, hidden in the library like usual, surrounded by books. These works of fiction and history were all that kept her sane in the lonely moments.

It was selfish, she thought, to get lonely so fast in so little time. There were many people in the world that never had friends and family to surround themselves with, and they made it through. But as soon as Isabella was alone her content dropped away; what remained being only little Bella, wishing for the love never to be got.

Focusing her eyes to the page, the girl sought to disappear into the story, to push away her troubles. It worked, and the hours tolled away, but the solution was only temporary, and the steel wool would soon regather.

The sound of footsteps reached her ears, but she strove to ignore them, hoping whoever it was wasn't looking for her.

"Are you finding that book particularly interesting?"

The beautiful brunette slowly looked up, meeting the deep, ancient eyes of Master Marcus.

"It is very well-written." She said.

"That is not what I asked." He sat down in the chair across from her, leaning over the table that separated the two.

Why is Master Marcus speaking with me?

He had never done so before. Occasionally they shared necessities when meeting each other in the hallway, but that was always it.

Her doe eyes flicked around nervously as the king made himself comfortable. "It's interesting enough."

"Why would you read a book if it was just 'interesting enough?'" Marcus scrutinized her every expression, the answers she gave intriguing him.

"I—," She hesitated, placing a bookmark inside her novel and moving it aside. Isabella twiddled her thumbs as she answered, "I don't choose books based on their interest value, but rather if they can suck me in enough to make me—lose consciousness of this world."

A wrinkles of concentration gathered on the ancient's flawless face. "You wish to temporarily forget?"

"Well—yes." Her body twitched nervously under his gaze.

"How fascinating."

"Look sir," they locked eyes, the first time since his arrival. "I hope it is not imprudent to ask what it is that you want?"

A small smile it his face, "That question is perfectly acceptable, Isabella. And I just wanted to ascertain that you are in good condition."

Whilst remaining in control of himself on the outside, Marcus was cursing himself for all he was worth. What is it that you say to people? How do you not treat people like the subordinate they really are? Isabella was interesting, and he wanted to learn more of the reasoning paths her brain took, but he had no idea how to politely continue the conversation.

Trying not to look confused at the odd phrasing of words, Isabella politely responded with an "I'm fine, and you?"

"I am doing quite well." Closing his eyes, Marcus internally groaned at his behavior. Abruptly standing up, he tried to make it look like he wasn't escaping from the situation, keeping his steps even and slow.

The revelation came to Isabella within seconds of his disappearance.

Master Marcus was socially awkward.

Don't laugh, don't laugh.

Pressing her hands over her mouth, she tried in vain to keep in the bubbling laughter.

Well that wasn't nearly as painful as I had expected.

O0o0o0o0o

Four guards were lined up, facing the masters. Tasked to lead these four, Jasper and Peter stood to the side, observing their subordinates.

"You will be able to do it, of course." Caius commanded, uninterested.

Jasper and Peter looked at each other, trying to keep the duh expression off their faces.

"It is well within our capabilities, yes." Answered the blond, the usual voicer of the two's thoughts.

With Caius's behavior dismissing the conversation Jasper stepped forward—going into major mode—pacing in front of the guards and giving them a look over.

"Before we set out, let me make something clear. You will not, under any circumstances, disobey one of our orders." His eyes became deep and forbidding, stance strong and powerful. Peter "went leader" as well, standing slightly behind Jasper, meeting the eyes of the guards when Jasper did not. The fear well-instilled at least a temporary respect for the two.

"There is always a well-thought-out reason behind everything. Trespass and you could very well kill us all. Don't." Jasper's southern accent became thicker as he took control, the clarity and pronunciation somehow staying all the same.

The Major became quiet, his and Peter's presence becoming somehow bigger. The silence worked just as well (if not better) than a long speal might have done. The four, muscular, (and usually scary) red-eyed men tried not to fidget under their leader's gaze, eye-contact being avoided. Finally—somehow all in unison—a "yes sir" echoed off the walls.

"Alright." Peter spoke for the first time, a smirk upturning his lips. "We'll see you all in two hours at the gate."

The men went to move, glanced back at Peter and Jasper just to be sure, and then practically ran out of the room. The Southern soldiers followed, leaving an amused Volturi behind. They soon met Isabella, who was just heading to the library. Stopping in the torch-lit halls, the girl tried to focus all her attention on Jasper.

"You are leaving again." Isabella said sadly, doe eyes wide.

"It won't be for that long, darling." He embraced her, but she hadn't closed her eyes. The hug, while nice, was accompanied by a stare contest with Peter. Stepping away she turned to the brunet and stuck her hand out, going for a civil handshake.

He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards himself. "Now that isn't the right way to say goodbye, now is it?" Red eyes staring into her yellow ones, the connection ignited, the girl unable to break the spell. The heat fell over both of them, momentary silence.

Mate.

Finally, Isabella managed to fight it well enough to bite out, "I won't miss you, sexist pig." Yet still unable to move her ground.

"I don't believe that for a second." He leaned over, sweet breath fanning over her senses. "Isa."

"Peter." Growled the one onlooker.

The wire snapped for good, the two backing away from each other with angry (and a little bit heated) expressions. Jasper burned with intensity, wanting to beat his brother for daring to feel such things toward Isabella. But he couldn't, they were mates. Peter and Isabella would just have to sort this out for themselves.

O0o0o0o0o

"Isabella, may I speak with you?"

The girl had never thought she'd see the day where Felix voluntarily entered the library. Standing tall and confident, the strong vampire loomed over the the desk she was seated at. He always did that, tried to somehow show his dominance. Felix was even worse than Peter, which was saying something.

"Okay," she said slowly, "Take a seat."

Grimacing but obliging all the same, Felix did just that. His chair loudly scraped along the floor as he placed it right beside Isabella's, giving her his best seductive smile.

"Hey beautiful." He breathed, mouth by her ear.

She put her hand on his chest, pushing him away. Putting his hand over hers, he took it, kissing it with lustful eyes.

Gasping in outrage, Isabella ripped her hand from his grasp. Scooting her chair back, she bit out "What in the world do you think you're doing?"

The black-haired Italian continued to grin, leaning over the table towards her.

"Come on Isabella, look at me. Who would not want to engage in intercourse with such a man?"

She stood up, crossing her arms, eyes ablazing. "I know a large proportion of those who respect themselves and their bodies and would never sully themselves with you!"

Still unconvinced, Felix got on his feet. He stepped towards her, shoulders pulled back, his chin high up, eyes dilated and predatory.

"Enough with this game." And with that, put one hand on each of her shoulders, pushing the struggling Isabella against a bookcase. Stooping down to give her a burning kiss he—

"And that's when I tore his arm off."

Rosalie threw her head back in laughter. "And you have not given it back?"

"No… I probably should though….what would the masters think?" Wearing a guilty expression, Isabella fidgeted in her chair.

"I am sure they will not say a word about it. It was strictly self defense, darling." Rose put her hand on the younger girl's shoulder and looking sincerely into her eyes, "He needs to learn to respect women, especially ones as powerful as you."

"I guess you're right." The two sat in solemn silence for a couple of moments, before dissolving into helpless giggles.

Seated in the parlour of Isabella's apartment, the beautiful, happy figures went well with the expensive upholstery. In fact, everything in that room seemed to match, but a pale, muscular arm, sticking out of a vase. Just when the girls got themselves under control, they would see it again and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

O0o0o0o

"Isabella Swan, give me my arm back!" Felix stormed after the giggling Isabella, who was racing over to the throne room. A visitor was being received, and the kings had called the shield to greet whoever this person was.

Felix reached out to grab Isabella's arm, only for his hand to disappear right through. Stopping suddenly, she turned around and shushed him. The girl tried to hide her grin at the odd figure he made, usually powerful and confident, the lack of one arm considerably diminished his "sex appeal."

"Be quiet. A visitor is being received." She ordered. "Armless."

"Hey!"

Isabella sauntered away, entering in the side door to the sanctuary. The three kings were gathered, along with the witch twins, Demetri, and a few burly guards. She didn't interact much with others, but the newborn knew their names to be Caleb, Malachi, and Braden.

She moved to her position behind Alec, giving him a small smile before turning to face the large, gothic-style double doors. The nine waited for the visitor to arrive, silent and still as stone. One of the first lessons a Volturi guard learned was to be intimidating. Remain solemn and deferential to the masters at all times, but be more obvious about it when a guest appeared.

Finally, the doors opened slowly, creaking ominously. A man, bronze-haired, beautiful, and confident, strode before the kings.

Freezing in shock, yellow eyes traced the figure of her ex-boyfriend. The first time since his "death" and here he was, in the flesh—so to speak.

"Edward Cullen." Aro nodded toward him, raising his arm toward the Adonis. "What is it that you seek?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N-I'd just like to say, having only one arm doesn't make you unsexy. It was talking about how unconfident Felix became after losing a limb. Just so no one misunderstands.


	15. In Which Edward is a Gentleman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely a bit of a different side to… pretty much everyone in this chapter. How do you feel about it? Does it make sense? Is there something I need to explain more?
> 
> Also, I thought I would remind some peoples that this is my first fanfic, and my first story that has gotten past two 500 word chapters. And also also, I am 17, so if you're going to call me a bad writer (and state that I have no brain), what the crap man? Give me something constructive to work on, tell me how to improve. THIS IS MY FIRST RODEO!
> 
> Alright, that's enough yelling. Thank you Suziq968, deadliestdistractionRN, traceybuie, Cacau Black, kouga's older woman, and Tiffany mace for your wonderful comments, they are always appreciated and treasured.
> 
> The story name has been changed, if you haven't noticed. The Flamer brought one important thing to my attention, and they're correct (even if they didn't say it very nicely), the story name and description didn't quite fit. I changed it and feel a lot better after doing so. So, I guess I'll thank the anonymous jerk, if only a little bit.
> 
> If you are to read this entire chapter, you'll get a reward! There is a little sneak peak at the end, READ IT OR DIE! JK, do what you want, I know most don't give a crap about AN's anyways.
> 
> -Nellie squees for those who review.

"In Which Edward is a Gentleman"

He was beautiful, she was lonely. She had killed him, he had lived. They had been together before, and the murky memories of her humanhood no longer told her the truth.

Edward took the hand of Aro, eyes never leaving the woman with the soft, beautiful features, the woman that had killed him..

She is more beautiful than I remember.

And she was. The boost of self-confidence, the mentors, the learning, the better control of her abilities had done wonders for the girl. A straight back, a holding of the gaze, and many other little confident ticks that increased her beauty and appeal. The shield's self-respect had grown with each passing month in the Volturi's possession. It was obvious and impressive.

The past months had been hard, a bit of a culture shock. Isabella had needed to learn, to become better, stronger, more mature. And yes, maybe she wasn't there yet, but she had come a long way since the start. Before, when the little brunette had hidden herself under tables and in closets—she had been likened to a defenseless rabbit. Now, she was able to retain some semblance of authority over those in the lower classes of the Volturi. There was a lioness inside, slowly becoming easier to be brought out upon attack towards herself or those she loved.

She was mine once. This amazing, selfless woman could've been mine forever.

Edward had fought with himself for ages against interference, but the years had ticked by, his inner clock banging loudly as the years passed in his prison. The prison he had been in for so long, when the world had whirled by him slow and cold. Barely able to keep still, he'd kept himself back after escaping—until Alice had had a vision that he couldn't ignore.

Isabella and Peter.

Peter? The killing machine of a man that had broken Jasper with his selfishness and poor choice of wife? Jasper's memories had told Edward enough. No way in hell was Edward going to let that man near Isabella, his past love. Jealousy raged and burned in the pit of his stomach, awakened by the horrible possibility. The beauty, selflessness, and intelligence she possessed had inspired him to passionate love for her (or maybe more for the idea of her). A connection of this like was not easily severed, even after the many years that he had "passed" without his "mate."

The Adonis wasn't willing to give up that easy. He wasn't a quitter, not anymore. Isabella had told him of her lack of feelings; however, Edward had been acting like a silly dandy at the time. He had to try again, to show her how kind and caring he could be.

How much he loved her.

Marcus' eyes bored into Isabella, assessing her condition. The girl shielded the three kings from Edward with ease, but her doe eyes were as simply read as a picture book.

"Isabella." Aro ordered, their gazes meeting.

"Would you be against Edward staying with us for a time?" Surprised at such an honour, Isabella took a moment to gather her thoughts. The Volturi never granted a boon of this sort to one of their guards. They were to be silent shows of power, the guard was, never to be independent except to defend their kings.

Although, it wasn't a question that Marcus asked her, not really. She couldn't answer "no," not in a million years. To show such weakness would be inexcusable. Isabella had to signal her support and loyalty to the cause, this was her test.

"No, I would not be against that." The beauty nodded towards Master Marcus, refusing to meet Edward's eyes anymore, an awkward, acquiescing smile gracing her lips.

Aro clapped his hands together, a fake-delighted expression on his face. "How nice, almost all the Cullens are together again, and just in time for the annual gala."

Edward and Isabella smiled politely, both painfully awkward and squirmy.

"Perhaps Aro, you would feel it okay to let these two go catch up just a bit, yes?" Asked Caius rhetorically, a sadistic look on his face.

Isabella groaned internally as they were both dismissed with a wave of Master Aro's chalky, ancient hands. The hands that had been and were to be the connection to so many thoughts and dreams, most to be crushed or manipulated after being involuntary given up.

Leading Edward with confident, slow steps, Isabella contemplated her next move, what the bronze-haired man's goals were. Did he require an apology, was he to make one himself? Perhaps it wasn't about her… maybe he had met his mate?

"So, how are you?" Asked Isabella as the two walked the corridors. He was watching her, that dazzling half-smile of his roping her in, just like all those months ago.

"I have been," he stopped to recover for a moment, a pained expression souring his handsome face "Okay. But the real question is: how are you?"

Turning to fully meet his gaze, Isabella studied her former boyfriend carefully, taking in how much older his eyes looked, how he seemed to be pulled back and attentive. Edward had never been so, always inside her personal bubble, showing off his self-control and the sway his dazzle had over her mind.

She stepped into his space, concerned and confused. "Edward, what has happened to you?"

Twitching at the question, he took a couple of seconds, forming his answer. "I, look, it's really none of your business how I am." Smiling self-deprecatingly, he continued, "I am not worth any of your time, but I had to just see if you were really happy here, with the Volturi."

Clamping onto his shoulder and bringing him closer, Isabella asked, half-caring and half-angry, "Why in the world would you care how I'm doing? I almost killed you, and you killed Renee before I could. We don't have any responsibilities toward each other."

Glowing, yellow eyes, deep, fathomless pools, the surface of these waters reflected towards her. Love, care, hurt, want, and pain. All of it and so much more overwhelmingly directed into her empathetic soul. She had never seen such depth in him before. It was frightening, yet enticing all the same.

"I was wrong. I acted wrongly. I—I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but if there is a chance—even the slightest bit—I can't leave it be. If not, I'll leave right now."

Silence reigned, Isabella's face closed off and pensive. Looking as if to study the painting behind him for a moment, she finally met his eyes again.

"Your room is the first right," she said, gesturing lightly with her hand. "You may explore everywhere but the West Wing, and you must be respectful to the Masters and the Guard. If you are to trespass against these rules, you will be executed."

With that, she turned quickly to the other direction, striding away. Edward's hopeful face watching her movements.

She didn't say no.

o0o0o0o

Edward was no longer a ghost, that was fact. But he still had the air of a spirit. The handsome teenager drew himself away from conversation and confrontation, observing everything with new eyes. Rosalie had only been watching him for a matter of hours, yet she already knew he was genuine. The Adonis had grown so much more since the McCartys and Jasper had left, his bad habits being pruned away one by one.

This was a problem.

An introspective, thoughtful Edward? An Edward that was improving himself, learning and growing? He could cause a world of troubles, wreaking havoc on Isabella's life, that which was only now starting to balance.

This must not be made to pass.

And when Rosalie McCarty wanted something, she got it.

Isabella was hers to guard, to keep safe. The girl had never had a mother, nor a sister, nor an aunt, and Rosalie was the best she had.

Protect the child.

The lesser guard—originally gathered around Edward—were chatting and gossiping, whilst said bronze-haired man stood off to the side, lost in thought.

Engaging in gaiety and laughter were the warriors, decked out in their best clothes and accessories. The Volturi loved any excuse to throw a gala, to exert their prominence over guests and visitors, inviting respected vampires in order to show off their wealth.

The large ballroom was attired in red satin and sparkling jewels, hot blood pumping out of samovars in various designated corners.

It was absolutely atrocious the amount of money wasting that went on at one of these parties, but it was one of the Volturi's ways of indulging the more glory-desiring guard and bringing in awe. They had to be certain that the world's vampires knew of their power, knew to follow the rules and be respectful.

Rose looked lazily around the room, swirling the hot blood in her crystal glass. Emmett stood beside her, appearing equally as bored. Both hated these functions, finding the politics distasteful and chavvy. Usually the two spent the entire time (along with the Southern Soldiers) keeping on eye on Isabella, whilst exchanging pitiful small talk with the others.

Emmett's wife was the most politic of all Isabella's family circle, making sure not to burn any bridges to ensure her family's safety. This was the type of society Rose had grown up in, she may not like it, but she accustomed to its habits. She knew which way the river ran; which people had power and which people pretended, who was bedding who, and who had the authority but didn't look it.

"Isabella is late." Whispered Emmett into her ear.

"Mayhaps she is only avoiding a certain seventeen year old." Responded Rosalie, directed a polite smile towards Henrik Mikaelson, an old and important vampire. Mr. Mikaelson, perhaps missing how little Rosalie desired his presence, perhaps purposely ignoring it, began striding over towards the two. His Scandinavian features were attractive and distinct, shoulder-length hair and well-trimmed beard adding to his unique look.

"I'm going to find her." Emmett said, easily interpreting his wife's wants.

"Thank you," she smiled sincerely and warmly towards him, turning the grin over to Henrik, a second's tick being all that was needed for the Ice Queen to take over.

Deadly beautiful and smart, along with cunning dealings with the vampires at the fest, it was no wonder she attracted eyes.

"How may I help you, Mr. Mikaelson?"

"Oh please," he gave her an enticing grin, taking her delicate hand in his and laying a kiss upon it. "Call me Henrik."

"If it pleases you." She said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, the obvious refusal of a returned favour inspiring a shark-like showing of teeth from Henrik.

"Why yes, it really would." He dropped his voice to a seductive whisper only she could hear. "Just like it would if you left that meat-head of a husband and allowed me—a taste." Stroking a hand along her cheek, he grew slightly put out at her lack of reaction. Rosalie's face was impassive and deadly, her eyes scrutinizing his features.

"Why Mr. Mikaelson, how outrageous." The blonde said playfully, taking a step back. Raising her voice, her aristocratic drawl echoed throughout the large room. "That you would ask me to leave my lifelong mate to bed you? That is preposterous and obscene."

All eyes were focused on the two, waves of gossip flooding easily within seconds. Rosalie McCarty hadn't been on the political seen for long, but she already had gained useful alliances and the trust of her integrity.

She stepped forward, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek and whispering "Threaten me and mine again, and I will destroy you."

The ice queen sauntered away, leaving a very angry Norseman behind her.

Striding along the torch lit, well-decorated corridors, Emmett easily inspired fear in those who met him along the way. Burly and unforgiving, with many years sparring with Jasper and Edward made him a force to be reckoned with. The hunting look in his eye, while he chased down his little sister to ensure her safety—a cold shiver went down the spines of those he passed.

"And why would it be bad? Why is it not okay for you to develop feelings for this man?" Asked a smooth, male voice, conversing in the shadows with a petite, young woman.

"He's, he's never nice to me…"

"Of course he is not, the man is not certain of your intentions. Perhaps he merely thinks his wants are stronger than yours. Being refused is a particular blow to the pride for a man, especially one like you have described."

"I don't mean to be rude, but… I just don't think that's it."

The man stepped toward the woman, placing a hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

"Do not be self-deceiving, my dear. The bond has been there since the beginning between you both, it is not temporary or simply for a 'roll in the hay,' it will mean so much more than that. Trust me."

Keeping silent, big, doe eyes watched with surprise as Master Marcus placed a fatherly kiss on her forehead. He walked away with his usual grace, giving a nod to the eavesdropper.

"Did you hear all that?" Isabella reached her arm out, grabbing Emmett's hand in hers and dragging him towards her for a hug. Disbelieving, Emmett nodded his head from where it was placed on top of his sister's. Encircling his arms around her small frame, he tried not to hyperventilate.

"I'll beat him within an inch of his life, Bells. He will never deserve you."

"I know." She sighed, kissing his cheek and rubbing soothing circles on his back.

O0o0o0o0o

Edward calmly let Isabella lead him to the quietest corner of the ballroom, watching as she collected herself.

"Are you alright?"

A small sincere smile broke her nervousness, "Yes, I'm doing well, I just… look I'm sorry for giving you false hope earlier, but, I've—I think—I met my mate."

Pain gathered between Edward's brows as he took in her words, stepping closer and stooping down to her short height. "Congratulations… for you and… him. I hope you'll be happy."

Isabella broke as she watched him, pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry, I know you've changed, but even if I hadn't met him, I wouldn't be able to date you again, not after all that happened."

Planting a tender kiss on his cheek, Isabella gave him a small smile before walking away to rejoin Emmett. The bronze-haired man watched sorrowfully as his first love said her final goodbye.

It was really over.

How interesting. He wants her and she wants Corporal Peter.

Edward snapped his eyes over to the girl the thoughts belonged to. She was small, smaller than Isabella, younger too, and her thoughts sounded through his head, fragile and unaffecting. She was like him, pulled away from the loud festivities and people.

"You see desires." He stated, motioning the girl closer.

"Have you heard of me?" Asked Bree, cautiously coming nearer.

"No, I read your thoughts."

Shock spread across her face, making it pinched and afraid.

"I'm sorry, it isn't something I can control."

"It's okay." She said hesitantly, "I can't stop what I see either." Wincing in memory, Bree wrapped her arms around her stomach, looking away.

"It seems we are quite alike," He carefully drew her right hand away from its hold, kissing it tenderly.

"My name is Edward Masen, and I know you are Bree Tanner. It's nice to meet you."

She smiled softly at this kind treatment, "It's nice to meet you too, I'm sorry about your girlfriend."

Scoffing lightly, he gave her a true boyish grin, "Thanks for your concern, but I have a feeling it will be fine."

The two smiled at each other goofily, idiots in love at first sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww! I ship it! Anyways, I hope y'all are happy with dis chappie right har.
> 
> My ideas of mates (the one that will be used throughout this fic) is that most of time it's love at first sight. And that most vampires would immediately do their best to bond and love their mate.
> 
> Because I love you, I wanted to give you a sneak peak of something that just might be occurring in the one of the next few chapters. Get ready for angst!
> 
> SNEAK PEAK!
> 
> It tugged and burned, a strange connection that she just couldn't break.
> 
> "Why are you doing this to me" She screamed. Her hand disappearing out of sight and plunging through his body, right where his heart should be.
> 
> "Isabella." He whispered softly, ardently, a half smile gracing his lips. He was unphased by her actions, by how easily she could kill him if that was what she desired.
> 
> "I love you."


	16. In Which a Murder Attempt Occurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time I write a story, my main character’s future boyfriend/husband/mate is not going to be Peter, because Peter is a bit stupid.  
> UGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!  
> But I guess most people are like that, you’ll be acting all idiot-like and then all of a sudden someone will say something and you’ll be like WHAT IS LIFE?  
> So, yea, that’s a thing.  
> Why am I in such a freakin’ random mood right now? All I can think of is random crap I want to write in this author’s comment.  
> I have a pair of socks with monarch butterflies on them. The German word for butterfly is Schmetterling. Every night before I go to bed I sign the word “butterfly” to my mom. It’s our thing. I love her, she’s cool.  
> To all those who commented:  
> deadliestdistractionRN (OMG! You’re review totally made my day, I got all warm inside and smiley! THANK YOU)  
> kouga’s older woman (isn’t it totally ship worthy? They’re soooo cute!)  
> Cacau Black (I’m not exactly sure what your last sentence meant… but thx anyway)  
> Traceybuie (I wish you a stressless [as possible, ‘cause come on now, let’s be real] holiday season as possible! Thank you for the review!)  
> You people are awesome, I adore you! Y’all are cool.  
> Fun fact: this is my first chapter to be completed in only one day.

"In Which a Murder Attempt Occurs"

Stepping onto the castle's grounds, it was hard to believe that a grand party had been thrown only two week prior. The stone walls were grey and sombre, just like always. The guards were frozen, looking like marble statues instead of real, thinking creatures. And the air, the air felt heavy, thick and foreboding, just as it had felt for the millenia the Volturi had ruled.

This was how the fortress always appeared, on the outside. It was part of its… charm. It was clean of course, and there weren't any cobwebs or dust to be seen, but it seemed remarkably close to Dracula's castle in many aspects. If it were sentient, it would be likened to a gloomy old ghost, roaming around for years after death with no real purpose.

Nevertheless, it still stood, and the Volturi continued to reign with no sign of ever being dethroned.

Peter and Jasper strode past the guards, their men walking respectfully behind. The brunet was confident, but his face seemed just as gloomy as the castle did. It had been a long two weeks, he… he hadn't realized how much he'd relied on seeing Isabella each day. Her beautiful doe eyes, long, auburn hair, scornful remarks, he loved everything. And, he was a bit ashamed of how much the thoughts of her dominated his every waking hour (and considering he didn't sleep, it was literally every hour of his existence). But he wanted her, forever, and he was pretty sure Jasper knew that too.

The blond was always looking at him with that intense, knowing gaze of his, making Peter feel even more like the foolish idiot he was.

Being expected, the Southern Soldiers (with posse) were greeted by the kings in the throne room. No pleasantry was needed before Aro took each man's hand in his. Master Aro would stop for a moment, eyes glassy and far away, before nodding and letting go. Peter didn't like it, being read like a bloody gossip rag, as if his thoughts weren't any different from another person's; however, the Volturi was one organization that allowed him to unleash full violence without repercussions.

Well, and they had Isabella.

"Well done." Said Master Aro, turning over to his brothers, a silent dismissal. Jasper and Peter exchanged a glance, a wave of artificial calm easing the anger in Peter's bones. Jasper was always doing that, being logical when Peter wasn't; he never seemed to make the wrong decision.

He wouldn't have made a mess of meeting his mate, not like I had.I'm not worth the ground she walks on.

The soldiers were dismissed, and Jasper and Peter walked together to their rooms. A bit of an uncomfortable silence reigned supreme, Peter was half-drenched in self-deprecating thoughts, the other half stuck not knowing what to say.

Turning to his brother suddenly, Jasper's voice rang deep and convincing "You haven't been good enough, that's the truth . Nevertheless, it doesn't mean you can't clean up your act." And with that, he walked away, entering his room and closing the door, Peter watching in intense contemplation.

Because he knew that; he knew Jasper's words weren't novel. He knew that from the beginning he'd been messing everything up—like the bloody idiot he was—but maybe if he were to really give it a go, maybe if he was kind and honest with her—with Isabella—she'd like him, someday love him.

You sound like a teenage girl. Mocked his inner voice, to which he flipped the bird.

And before he could argue with himself some more, he set out to find her, to at least give the girl an apology.

O0o0o0o

Peter wasn't the only one to have had a long two weeks. Isabella had been struggling, fighting to come to terms with the fact that he was hers; that he was her mate.

He wasn't unintelligent; she knew that. Peter just didn't know how to deal with his emotions, they always ran away from him; they controlled and overtook, which in some situations would be fine, but in most situations wasn't.

For the last fourteen days Isabella had been acting like a hermit. Completely breaking it off, for good, with Edward had been difficult, more difficult than she'd originally thought. And, lately, he'd been hanging out with Bree a lot, and they were adorable. Isabella was actually a bit jealous of it all.

Edward had never been that sweet with her. When he was around Bree though, he consoled her; he told her the truth; and he just generally made her happy. The young girl was skipping everywhere, a goofy smile appearing whenever she thought of her mate. The pair meshed together perfectly, like bread and butter, both working and compromising, a flawless combination.

Would Peter ever be able to treat Isabella like that? Would he ever get over himself?

Confident on the outside, Isabella traversed the halls of the castle, internally sinking once more into depression.

The thoughts she'd always had fought and won dominance once more, the ones that for years had recurred no matter how much reassurance she received.

You're not worth it.

Why would he ever love you?

You shouldn't even try.

Her shoulders slumped down further with each thought, with each attack of the little, low voice in the back of her brain. She was so emotionally distraught, so caught up in her own problems, she didn't sense an attacker hiding behind the corner-a redhead.

The woman sprang upon Isabella, growling like a wild animal. Clawing for Isabella's throat, she spat out curses and maledictions. You could see she wasn't all there, not anymore. The redhead's eyes were too focused, a crazed, stubborn will hidden behind the blood-red orbs.

Isabella defended every attack easily, her training having most definitely been effective. The woman acted like a newborn, no real thought except rage fueling her attempts. It was simple to block, so simple that Isabella had the redhead locked in a hold within a minute.

"They all love her, itty bitty Bella," she stretched the name with a sing-song tone, madness more apparent with every word she spoke. "Well I'll show them! I will show them all! Kill her, rip her head from her body! Tear the flesh a-part! Burn her to ash!"

A high-pitched laugh tore from the woman's throat, who finally had enough strength to rip free and attempt again on Isabella's life.

There was Isabella, fighting for her continued existence against a mad woman, whose attempts were getting more and more powerful and unpredictable. A possibility of Isabella losing grew greater.

Peter, who had heard the noise and rushed over, took only a second to decide to intervene. He dove, easily ripping away the woman's arm with a horrible, squelching sound. The man moved forward, ready to finish the redhead off.

Suddenly, he was pushed away, hard, a dainty, ivory hand planting on his chest in one swift movement. Hitting the wall with force, Peter looked up at the fight, only to hear a predatory growl and the tearing, liquidy sound of decapitation.

The redhead, Renata, was ripped apart within seconds, a lighter (Isabella had been instructed to always carry one on her person) easily disposing of the remains. The smell of burnt flesh permeated the room, not unfamiliar to Peter's nose. He had never expected this, that she would, that she could be so ruthless. It was enrapturing, awe-inspiring, sexy.

I love her.

Conquering yellow eyes watched with relish, a small smirk upturning the left side of Isabella's face. It disappeared rapidly, once those yellow eyes became fixed on the attempted usurper. She stalked close, Peter watching her every moment, keeping still after gauging the situation.

"You tried to take my kill from me." The girl stated, enraged.

"No, of course not, I thought you were in serious, mortal danger." He said, convincing and smooth in his relay of information.

"You thought I couldn't handle myself in a fight."

"Darling, there are certain vampires that require more than one person to be taken down. Rabid vampires, like that woman that you just burned. I'm sorry for wrongly assessing the situation."

A frown gathered between her eyebrows, eyes flickering over his face in wonderment.

"You're being reasonable." She caged his head with one arm on each side, planted against the stone wall behind. He was much more attractive when he said things like that, Isabella thought. When his eyes become compelling and honest, like when he told accounts from long ago, or when he spoke with Jasper.

"I'm very sorry for all the times I haven't been more so." He answered truthfully.

Coming nearer, she nearly closed the space between their lips, breathing her sweet scent across his face. "Why?"

His eyelashes fluttered a bit under the sudden onslaught, pupils dilating and hands clenching.

A hot coal gathered in Isabella stomach, burning with no remorse. She wanted to kiss; she wanted to hold, it was so different and overpowering than anything ever before experienced.

"Because you're my mate, and I haven't treated you respectfully." He quickly switched positions, locking her in though she cared not a bit. Peter was close; Peter was here and saying nice things to her, about her.

"Would you," his eyes were so entrancing, she took a moment to gather her wooly thoughts, "would you please stay like this?"

A handsome grin danced across his face. "Like how?"

"Kind. If you are going to start being a jerk again, would you please give me some warning first?"

He held her gaze, reverently, heatedly, before swooping in to meet his mouth to hers. Rising up to her tiptoes, she met him with matched passion, placing her hands on his shoulders and squeezing tight.

This was new, exciting in a way, yet it also felt like a thing you'd never get over. It burned and lit Isabella's nerve endings like never before. She felt everything, the press of his lips against hers, the desire and love poured into it, the burning in her lower belly.

His arms were wrapping around her waist now, hers around his neck. Peter pulled her to him, their bodies as near to each other as possible. The flush of want wasn't close to being satisfied with the action, desiring more and more.

Closer.

They finally broke off, gasping for air not needed. Peter pressed his forehead to Isabella's, smiling at how mussed up her hair had gotten and how puffy and enticing her lips looked.

"I'll never be that way again. Promise. And if for some reason an alien takes over my body and I am to act like that, I give you full permission to remove my head from my body."

The two smiled, equal in joy, before Peter and Isabella met lips in another kiss.

o0o0o0o0o

Being rather put out, but reasonable all the same, the Volturi did not punish Isabella for killing Renata. Via Peter's memory, they knew it really had been self-defence, and that there was no reason to worry about a mutiny from Isabella.

The pair became inseparable, quickly working through and putting aside previous issues.

Rosalie was very suspicious of the whole thing. She knew Peter was Isabella's mate, but the change hadn't been gradual enough, not for her full assurance of Peter leaving idiotic actions completely alone.

And that was true, sometimes Peter forgot himself and said or did something stupid. He was just lucky enough to have Jasper Whitlock, the empath as his friend. Jasper would give Peter that look, a bit of a talking to on how not to be an jerk next time and then Peter would go patch it up.

Isabella was forgiving, most of the time. But she knew when to make him "sleep on the couch" and when to just give him a peck on the cheek and a smile.

Sometimes the relationship was rocky, but with each bump in the road the two learned something and got better. They learned what to respect and that communication is important; they (Peter) learned the importance of treating your mate's family well, and they grew as a couple.

And now, after eight months of being in an intense relationship, it was time for Peter to meet the parents.

Isabella was going to the Cullens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright everyone! Only the epilogue to go now. It might seem a bit fast (I hope not too fast) but I'm not that great at a slow burn.  
> Honestly, I’ve been getting a bit done with this story.  
> I started a new one, The Impostor. Please go check it out.  
> Thanks for all the continued support throughout this story’s writing. I hope you'll stick around for the last chap.  
> Happy Holidays!


	17. In Which Isabella Visits the Cullens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, um, yea (scratches her neck) this is the last chappie.
> 
> What's your opinion of this story? Is there area you feel that could be improved? Something that doesn't make sense? I am well aware that my stories have flaws, but am not always able to spot them.
> 
> Thank y'all for the awesome support over the last 2 months of this fic's development. Y'all are cool!

"In Which Isabella Visits the Cullens"

Flawless, mesmerising blonde hair, spilled across the pillow. Eyelids shut, breath soft and steady, faking sleep. Her aura was beautiful, contentment and happiness singing out in the air around her, only to be read by him. One eye opened slowly, the beauty connecting gazes with her male unlooker.

"You know, it's not very gentleman-like to watch a woman sleep."

The blond man smiled slowly, his hand cupping the back of the her neck and bringing their mouths together. Minutes passed, hands lazily exploring each other, before they finally broke away, foreheads pressed together.

Jasper's mouth quirked up in a grin, "Who said I was ever a gentleman?"

Suddenly tackling him, Heidi pinned Jasper's arms over his head, "Nobody. And you'll never have to be such a thing with me." She gave him a peck on the lips and got off, searching out her clothes.

She was halfway dressed before arms encircled her waist. Strong arms, sinewy and scarred, protecting Heidi in way she'd never thought was needed. There was never enough of him, never enough of deep conversation, or intense stares, or meaningful touches. Jasper's emotions washed over her, just like the always did when he got passionate. Love, desire, adoration, his feelings and hers tangling together, inseparable and unknown whose was whose.

Kissing her neck, he whispered "Te amo."

"Y yo tú también."

Finally they managed to get out the door, Heidi needing to start her "human touring" and Jasper to be briefed on an assignment.

o0o0o0o

Carlisle Cullen smiled in greeting to his wife, having arrived after a long work day.

Alice lay on the floor of the living room, belly down, feet kicking, looking very much like a child as she flipped through a magazine.

The Cullen house had become much quieter since last year's radical change, their number descending rather suddenly from eight to three. The building was a bit lonely, sometimes dishearteningly silent at times.

Esme felt it the most, appearing to be a bit of a ghost as she went about her daily routine. Her little world-the fantasy she'd built for herself-had come crumbling down hard. The woman was left with the harsh but true reality-teenage vampires were not children. Instead of being a friend and companion, Esme had been a mother-overbearing and too protective. It was fine for the first few years of a vampire's life, even needed for some, but she'd frozen herself into the position, oblivious to the consequences until it was much too late for reparations.

Going to kiss Carlisle's cheek, the woman smiled at the sight Alice made. The last few years had been hard on them both, but the pixie always took time for Esme. They were much more like friends now, comforting each other for the losses suffered.

Gasping loudly, Alice's eyes became blank, body tensing as the pictures played through her mind quick like lightning. Esme and Carlisle were by her side within milliseconds, concerned faces waiting for the visions to pass. Coming back to awareness, the pixie allowed herself to be helped to stand.

"Sweetie?" Asked the Cullen matron, whose hand was rubbing soothing circles on Alice's back.

"Isabella, Edward and their new mates are going to be arriving soon."

Joy lit up Esme's expression. She exclaimed "They're coming back?"

"No." Alice observed the storm clouds darken Esme's face, the room's atmosphere a miasma of deep depression gathering around her once again. "No, they're visiting, on the Volturi's behalf."

Carefully, Carlisle escorted his shaken and saddened wife to a seat, kissing her cheek and holding her hand, trying to reassure with little success.

Watching unhappily, Alice pitied the sensitive woman. Esme's recovery was going much to slow, change being harder for vampires than humans. And this wasn't a little something to get over; the loss of one's own children-no matter how fictional they might be-a heavy burden for anyone to bear.

o0o0o0o0o0o

The airplane hummed loudly, filled with the smell of living humans and recycled air. Tapping her fingers on the armrest, Isabella strove to push down the anxious butterflies flopping around in her belly.

A strong hand lightly rested over hers, the blood-red eyes of her mate full of comforting concern.

Peter was a bit of a gruff person, hesitant to talk about any kind of feelings he might have. After their relationship began Isabella had had to become better at reading him. His silence told dozens of stories and thoughts, the position of his body essential to the inner workings of the Southern Soldier's mind. He was of a complex brain, a brain that loved to go in all directions, to places Isabella had yet to explore.

His eyes were really what led to his soul; when he allowed himself to be relaxed they were unveiled, leaving his thoughts open for anyone willing to put in the effort.

He stroked along her knuckles for a couple of minutes, before saying "As soon as you feel the least bit uncomfortable, vamos a ir." Peter brought Isabella's hand to his lips, kissing it tenderly. His eyes revealed a heated expression, full of love and passion.

"Gracias." She leaned forwards, their lips meeting lightly.

Meanwhile, Bree and Edward were in the next aisle over, experiencing something of a similar like.

But what if they don't like me?

"They'd have to be completely insane not to love you. Darling," He pressed a kiss to her cheek, "It'll be completely fine. Not matter what happens my opinion of you will not change."

Bree could feel his intensity, fierce passion with which he desired her safety, her happiness; it was the most amazing thing she'd ever felt. The love he had seemed to flutter around her, surrounding the girl with care.

Please, don't let this ever stop.

I love him so much it almost hurts.

"I love you too."

She rested her head on his shoulder, waiting out the hours that would bring her to the dreaded in-laws.

o0o0o0o0o0o

The vibrant, healthy green of Forks was a beautiful sight, the constant rain emphasizing the appealing, wild smells of nature. Bree may have experienced an extremely abusive situation in Seattle-a city of similar aesthetics-but she'd been in the warehouse the entire time, under guard and surrounded by the smell of death and the sight of horror.

Sometimes the smallest of unimportant and vague smells, sights, or noises could set off the shakes and shudders, a complete breakdown-shell shock. However, it was peaceful here, and she was with Edward; who held her hand for hours when the fears got bad, and never begrudged her for the thoughts that sometimes flitted through her mind.

His roguish half-grin, protective words and actions, along with a sincere, loving smile all helped to soothe the pain. Edward's desires, his wants in life were always steady, the majority orbiting around her safety.

Bree was safe.

Even if her stomach was littered with nervous butterflies, her limbs twitchy, and her bottom lip heavily bitten.

The group of four-Peter, Isabella, Edward and Bree-were already in the Cullen's territory, nearing the family's home. With each step forward her anxiety climbed, skipping every second rung up the ladder of stress.

Crossing through various scents, Bree wrinkled her nose at one of the faintest. It smelled of a wet, moldy dog who had then rolled through a field of skunk cabbage-she wanted to gag.

It temporarily took the girl's mind from her impending doom, Isabella was also swayed to plugging her nose.

"Shapeshifters-the Quileutes." Answered Edward, to the unspoken question.

"Is Jacob-do you know?" Isabella asked hesitantly.

"Yes."

And then the journey continued in silence, until they turned around the bend, registering the sight of the three Cullens, waiting at the doorstep of the perfectly designed, plentifully windowed house.

An awkward stillness continued to reign-fingers tapping nervous beats on thighs-until the four stood before the coven, their bodies stiff and dreading.

"Welcome." Said Carlisle, beckoning Isabella towards himself and taking her hands in his.

The yellow, fatherly eyes of the blond doctor seemed to be probing, examining for injuries and unhappiness. He'd waited two years for this, the return of his fledgling, the girl he considered family. Joy had lit the eyes of Isabella since she left, improvement obvious. Finding no fault, he enveloped her in a hug.

Esme did the same to Edward, before turning to Bree.

The Adonis explained "Mother, this is Bree Taylor."

Giving the nervous girl a once-over, Esme surprised her with a hug, whispering "I'm so happy for you both."

"Your son is the best thing that ever happened to me, Mrs. Cullen. Thank you for being so accepting." Bree's hands were on her mother-in-law's shoulders, the blood-red eyes staring deep and sincerely into gentle, yellow ones.

A warmth heated Edward's bones, kissing his mother's and mate's cheek in happiness.

Alice watched hopefully, lovingly, springing to embrace her brother after Esme had given acceptance. Her big eyes were heavily emphasized by wide wonder, trying not miss anything. The pixie kept back from Isabella, waiting and watching.

"Hello again, Peter." Said Carlisle, his eyes assessing the soldier. Sticking his hand out, their palms met in a strong, threatening handshake.

"Hello, sir."

The doctor, the pacifist, the peaceful, stepped forward, looming over Peter not with height but with determination. "If you ever hurt my Isabella, I will find a way to rip you limb from limb.

"As you should, sir. I have no intentions of doing such a thing. In fact, if that is to occur I will have destroyed myself long before you hear of the deed."

Carlisle nodded once, near fully convinced, and ushered the four into the house.

o0o0o0o0o

Thump, thump, thump, sounded the paws of the wolves. They ran in rhythm, the alpha, Jacob, steering the group. The woods was theirs to protect, to guard and defend. For two years the pack had done their very best to keep their people safe, the delicate humans held dear to their hearts.

Just minutes ago an alarm had been howled, Leah Clearwater having discovered four new scents whilst on patrol. Quickly, the pack members-nine in all-had gathered together. Nothing of this magnitude had ever occurred before, only one vampire ever having been torn from life by their jaws.

Have the Cullens been notified?

Yup, they and the other leeches are meeting us at the border. Jared thought, the quick conversation playing through his head for all to view.

A large percentage of the wolves twitched and wiggled in anticipation, ready to fight, to kill.

No one is to attack before my order, understand. Commanded the alpha firmly. We must be absolutely sure the treaty has been broken.

None dared to grumble, for this was their leader, who was not to be crossed. They understood the logic, and respected him for the decision (even if they did itch to destroy a bloodsucker or two).

The nine reached the border, waiting impatiently for the vampires to arrive, the wolves' tails beating heavily on the ground. Being all in sync, it sounded like an ominous drum beat-thump, thump, thump.

Finally-after what seemed to have been hours-seven pairs of footsteps were heard, seven white, immortal faces appearing through the trees.

Carlisle led Esme and Alice, the word alpha echoing through the shapeshifters' minds in conjunction with the blond doctor.

Another group came soon after, four vampires in black cloaks, walking side by side. The pack quickly come to the right conclusion-their leader was not present.

Jacob scanned the new faces, a shock running through his veins at discovering familiar features.

Bella.

She was flawless now-on the outside-the only major change to her looks being the soft, yellow eyes holding his gaze. Anger coursed through Jacob's veins, somebody had changed this innocent girl, another cold one walking the earth in her place.

The alpha's attention was suddenly grabbed by a bronze-haired, handsome teenager stepping forward, his hands held up non-threateningly.

"My name is Edward Masen, I can read your thoughts." Snarls broke through, but the pack remained still. "It isn't by choice and I can't turn it off. I will be the interpreter for this negotiation."

Alright. The russet wolf nodded once, his mind full of distrust. These leeches were here with backup; it was in everyone's best interests to be cautious.

Carlisle stepped forward, asking "What is the reason you called us here today?"

"Four unknown scents-those of the ones cloaked in black-were scented today. We feared they could be hostile."

Peter's voice rose to the occasion, his words calm and placating, "We are only visiting, and will not be hunting in your area during this time."

Jacob's gaze switched over to Carlisle, who nodded, taking responsibility for the four.

A heavy silence broke through-a minute of stare-downs occurring-the wolves switching their weight from paw to paw, tails rustling back and forth along the earth.

Edward, Jacob's voice finally questioned "Did you or did you not change Bella Swan?"

Peter grabbed Isabella's hand, holding her back from taking charge, interrogating her friend from childhood.

Keeping eye contact with the alpha, the doctor responded, "No. She was changed by a hostile that we had no relations with. He found her scent appealing and hunted her until she was alone. He was killed after the attack."

All of the creatures froze, watching the two leaders. At any moment a battle could take place, or peace could reign supreme. Nobody could look away.

Finally, with one last glance at Isabella, the wolves turned away, going back into their territory.

Peter pulled Isabella into a hug, kissing her cheek comfortingly.

Alice suddenly grinned "See! I told you we'd be fine!"

Everyone awkwardly smiled, relieved as they headed back to the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's it! If you liked this story I've have started some new ones which I hope y'all will give a looksie!
> 
> The Imposter-A Twilight SI story where my brain is suddenly popped in place of Bella's
> 
> The Butterflies that Haunt her Days-A Switched at Birth fic in which Bay is an awkward genius and is actually kind to people.


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